Ripples
by Star.girl115
Summary: After years of tension, Brennan and Booth finally sleep together. Will they be able to accept what happened and face their feelings, or will it tear them apart forever? Chapter 26 is up! x
1. Comforting

_**Hi all! New fanfiction alert!**_

_**This is just something that I typed after the idea would not leave my head- it's kinda short, and even though my friend has read through it for me, there may be spelling errors, which I apologise for- people always say that they ruin the story, and I sort of know what they mean, but even though I check and check, an error always gets through somehow.**_

_**This isn't rated M but I suppose it might be later. Believe it or not, there is actually a plot behind all the kissing and hand-stroking stuff- if you want more plot (or more kissing and hand-stroking) please review and I'll update ASAP.**_

_**~Enjoy!~**_

_The longer something is left, _she typed, her fingers moving with nimble experience as she became lost in the words she conveyed to the screen, _The stronger it gets. Ignoring something to relieve yourself of the emotions that might be associated with accepting it may seem like a harmless thing to do, as it is pushed to one side, and "forgotten." But eventually, it has to be dealt with. And when it finally is dealt with, you end up wishing that the whole thing hadn't been pushed to one side at the start after all._

Brennan was in her office when Booth arrived, with a frown on his face that told her instantly something was wrong. She had worked with him for long enough now to recognise his facial expressions, and what they meant, even if she didn't yet know what was behind them.

When he walked in, she looked up from her work, stopping typing as he quietly shut the door behind him.

"I'll be ready in a minute, Booth, if you just want to sit down." She felt like a dentist in a waiting room. Booth certainly looked as depressed as somebody about to face someone drilling their teeth. Brennan studied him for a minute or so more as he sat down before continuing typing.

But the flow had stopped; the words that she had been so eager to release had been forgotten. If it had been anybody else that had come in and distracted her, she would have been a little annoyed. But not with Booth. She had learnt by now that if he distracted her, then the forgotten trail of words would come back to her later, as she was usually reminded by something he said or did. He made her forget, but he made her remember, balancing it all out perfectly.

Quietly, Brennan saved her work, and closed the laptop with a small noise that made Booth glance over at her. Standing, she walked over, and sat on the chair opposite him, leaning forwards so that she could perfectly see his face.

"What's wrong, Booth?" She asked and he instantly looked surprised that she had noticed, before gathering himself.

"Nothing, Bones. Everything's fine."

Brennan gave him a look, to show that she didn't believe his crap for one second. He gave her a reluctant half smile, studying his hands intently. His fingers were fiddling with something; a flash of metal told her that it was his St Christopher necklace, usually found around his neck.

Looking at her now, he relented and began to talk.

"I've…oh, I've just had a bad day, Bones. Everybody gets them, it's not the end of the world." His words were light and teasing, but she could hear the weariness behind them, and didn't push for more.

Instead, she watched as he held up the necklace and watched the light catch it as it turned slowly. Booth was captivated by the necklace as it spun hypnotically. Brennan wondered just what had made his day so bad, made him try to cover his pain with his charm-smile and a few well chosen "happy" words.

Leaning closer, she reached over and let her fingers trail down the cool metal of the necklace. Booths eyes slid to her, as the delicate chain coiled in her palm, and she held her hand out to him. He circled her petite hand with his larger hand, his fingers curling around them as she tilted her hand and the chain fell into his palm.

Her hand felt warm, her skin soft against his, and he tightened his grip. Brennan watched silently, unaware that her breathing had practically all but stopped. Still holding the St Christopher, Booth reached out his other hand, and used it to turn hers over, examining every inch with a thoughtful, lost, soft expression on his face. His thumb stroked her flesh rhythmically, and she shivered.

Booth looked up at her then. Brennan was suddenly aware of how silent the room was, how alone they were, and how happy she was that they were alone together. She was also increasingly aware of how good his skin felt against his, the warm, bubbling feeling in the pit of her stomach washing over her, the feeling that she had come to associate with the man sat before her, stroking her hand.

_Love. _The love _friends_ shared.

Booth stared into her eyes, and she did the same to him. She could see his raw emotions there, the way his eyes were a little too bright, and she wondered if he had been crying.

The thought of Booth crying without her there comforting him made her squeeze his hand. He looked down at their intertwined fingers then back at her. He was telling her something, in his deep chocolate brown orbs that could see right though her, that could see right past her wall, past every lie she told. He understood her just as well as she understood him-sometimes she wondered whether Booth understood her better than she did herself. That should have scared her, but it didn't.

The next thing she knew, Booth was moving towards her. She stayed still, frozen, until his lips pressed against hers softly. They were cool and she could taste coffee and peppermint. The kiss was simple, and chaste, as Booth pulled away, but only a fraction. He stared into her eyes, their faces inches away, and she was caught between the shock over what had just happened as she tried to rationalize the event, and the realisation that his lips felt incredible against hers-

And then they were kissing again, but she was kissing him back, slowly, unsurely. Her kisses were careful, measured, delicate, in case he pulled away. _I should pull away_, she thought, but she didn't. Instead she pressed one hand onto the lapel of his suit jacket, and slowly pulled him closer.

Booth was savouring each of her kisses, moving as slowly as she was. It was sweet, and tender, full of words unspoken. He lifted a hand to her head, and buried it in her hair. Suddenly, he pulled her even closer, and traced his tongue along her lip, begging for entrance.

Brennan's eyes opened in surprise, but she complied, and he explored the contours of her mouth. They were kissing slowly; long kisses, tasting each other. Brennan, now half lost to the kiss, took this as a sign that he wasn't going to run. _Was she?_

She couldn't even if she had wanted to. Booth was pulling her over towards him, off her own chair and onto the couch beside him. They didn't break the kiss, as he pushed her down. She was lying on the couch, her hair fanning around her face, tousled, as he slowly leaned over her, cupping her face and kissing her even more deeply than before.

They were lying, on the couch, making out, Booth pressing himself against her, burying his hand in her hair, the other trailing down to her slim, pale neck as their legs tangled. _I should stop, __**now**__, _she told herself, but at the same time that she thought this, she was moving her right leg up, grazing the heel over the back of Booth's thigh, before gently hooking it up around his waist.

Booth immediately pushed himself closer to her, an automatic response, but in that second, she felt him pressing against her, and she felt how much he wanted her. She moaned softly, and her hand jerked up to the small of his back. They stopped, and once again their eyes met. A moment passed between them, and it was clear in Booth's eyes that a choice had to be made, and she had to be the one to make it. They could stop now, and deal with the awkward silence that followed, or they could cross the line and carry on…doing this. Kissing. Touching each other.

It felt like a dream, a dream that she had on occasions, but pushed to the back of her mind and refused to even think about. But she had to think about it now; he was here, he was right in front of her, and he was waiting for her to choose.

It took only a second to make her choice.

Brennan tightened the leg she had hooked around his hip, and cupped the back of his neck. Booth gave her a quick half smile, his eyes flashing, an impossibly dark shade of brown now, as he realised the choice she had made. Still grinning, he pressed into her again, and was rewarded with another moan from the woman underneath him.

Their kisses, which had once been chaste and gentle were now passionate and fast, and things were moving quickly. With a look at Brennan to reassure himself she was really okay with this, Booth moved his hand down to her shirt, and slowly began unbuttoning it. She noticed he kept doing that; looking at her like this might be a dream too, like she wasn't really letting him kiss her, and kissing him back, like he was afraid that any second now she would push him off.

But she didn't stop him; in fact she helped him, with fumbling fingers, until the buttons were all undone. Booth pulled her up and lifted her onto his lap, and she straddled him. Another moan escaped from her lips as she sat directly on top of his crotch, now able to feel even more how much he wanted her. Booth tugged off the unbuttoned shirt, and she raised her arms so that he could slip her camisole up and over her head, leaving her sat before him, kissing him, her top half wearing a lacy black bra, and nothing else. He had dreamed about this, but never with this much clarity. Never before had he been able to smell her scent, of perfume and strawberry shampoo, or feel just how amazing her skin felt against his. She reached round and unhooked her bra, and suddenly she was there before him her breasts uncovered and he wanted to pinch himself to make sure that this really wasn't a dream.

Instead he kissed her, her breasts pushing up against his muscular chest. He pushed her back down onto the couch again so that she was lying, and she immediately hooked both legs around his waist. Her moans were familiar now, but he still couldn't believe it. He closed his eyes with a low groan as she exhaled deeply, before continuing to kiss her. Booth's lips trailed down to her neck, and he began to suck on the skin that he found there.

This was obviously a delicate point, because she arched up into him and this time, he groaned with her, loudly. His lips moved down, leaving a trail of kisses until he reached her breast. As her head lolled back with pleasure at what he was doing to her, Brennan reached down and began to tug on the belt of his jeans.

The St Christopher necklace lay on the carpet of the floor, shining, coiled, as the sound of moans took over the room, and the sound of fabric falling to the floor seemed to echo like gunshots.


	2. Regrets and Repercussions

**Short quick chapter- sorry in advance if I've missed any errors, and sorry for the ending- I'm not too keen on it, but I wrote this quite quickly. Quite a fast update for me!**

**Thanks a lot to everyone who has been so kind so far, with reviews and putting my story on alert, etc. It means a lot, especially the reviews. Because of the positive response, I added another chapter- see how that works? :)**

**Hope you enjoy!xxx**

There had been a single moment, when they had both experienced an unbelievable rush of pleasure, as they lay on the couch, skin covered in sweat, limbs tangled together, when they had looked into each others eyes. Brennan's cries were relaxing into deep breaths, as her flushed skin pressed against Booth's. He had collapsed onto her, their faces inches away, before he had moved. She had thought that he was going to leave, but he stayed on top of her, his breathing just as laboured as hers. Only then, as her skin began to cool down, as the thick clouds of intensity in her head began to clear, did Brennan think that she shouldn't have done this. It had been so easy to forget all of her doubts as they had been doing it, all too easy to get lost in his kisses and the touch of his hands, his fingertips trailing lightly down her skin and leaving a wake of goose bumps on her pale, soft skin.

"Hey." Booth reached his hand to cup her face, the other supporting himself to keep most of his weight off of her smaller frame. _Always considerate._

His hand was oddly warm against her cooler skin, as he pushed her hair off her face and looked into her eyes. Their foreheads were touching, and she looked up into his eyes. It was like he was trying to tell her something, but she had no idea what it was. Brennan did her best not to lose herself in his gaze, as he pressed a soft kiss against her lips; she noticed how from the after effects of his orgasm, he was shaking slightly. His hand on her hip, however was firm and steady- one hand on her cheek, one on her hip, like he was keeping her safe- making sure she couldn't run.

She opened her mouth, as if she was going to speak, but the words, already bound to sound shaky and uncertain were cut off from ever being released by the sound of a phone ringing loudly. It made Brennan jump, but as her head turned to look for the source of the ringing, Booth gently tilted her head back to face him and looked at her in a way that made her knees turn to jelly, as he urged her silently with his eyes. She had seen this look, this willing look before, usually when they were in some kind of threatening situation, gun to a victims head and he was trying to tell her telepathically what to do. The look had never been so serious, so intense. She had no idea what he was expecting from her, but her eyes averted from his, sideways, to where his fingers were holding her face.

Booth, with one last look at her, climbed off her; Brennan immediately sat up, as he went and hunted for his phone. She tried not to look at him as he did so. _It's not like you haven't seen him naked, _a voice in the back of her head said, but she shushed it hurriedly.

As Booth answered his mobile, Brennan reached across for her underwear, slipping on her panties and hooking her bra on. Booth glanced her way as she lifted her hair around her shoulder as it got caught in the bra strap, but she continued. She tugged on her camisole, and found her shirt, buttoning it hastily, before slipping on her jeans, and pulling her boots on over that.

By the time Booth politely hung up, she was very aware of how clothed she was and how naked he was- incredibly naked. He tossed the phone onto the couch and pulled on his jeans quickly. His shirt followed, and he then tugged on his shoes, and his jacket.

When she saw him pulling his jacket on Brennan thought that he was just going to leave; she felt a surge of disappointment, but also relief. Part of her wished he _was_ going to leave without trying to discuss this, part of her worried how things between them would be if he left now.

He looked up at her as he grabbed his cell and pushed it into his pocket.

"We've got a case." He told her simply. Immediately she pushed her worries away.

"Now?" She eyed the clock, and the dark sky outside of her window. He nodded.

"Car crash at a junction downtown."

"Car crash? That's not my area of expertise, Booth." Still, she pulled on her jacket, knowing that he wouldn't take her to a crime scene without justification. How long had he known her, after all?

"Yeah, well, they found remains in the back of the car. Guess that qualifies as your area of expertise, huh, Bones?" He ushered her out of the room, his hand falling delicately to the small of her back as usual. Brennan's eyes fell down to his hand; he did this simple guiding technique practically every day, but now it all felt so different. His touch burnt through her layers of clothes and made her shiver as they left the building.

Brennan had decided that she wasn't going to talk about what had happened. Not with Booth, not with Angela, not with anyone. She tried not to think about it, like it was forbidden, taboo. She pushed it to the back of her mind, trying to control her doubts; she found it wasn't as easy to forget her problems in regular situations as it had been when he had been on top of her, hearing his moans, as he kissed her deeply, and buried his face into her neck-

She had managed to go a week so far. In a weird way, she was almost proud of this achievement. Angela had noticed something right away, but she had managed to lie her way out of it.

Brennan had only worked with Booth twice in the last week, staying in the lab for the majority of her time. They didn't go to the diner, he didn't call her. She felt a squirm of guilt- _maybe I should have said something to him?_ She wondered. She missed him. It was Friday- it had only been two days since she last saw him. She had become accustomed to seeing him every day, laughing with him, eating with him, going home smelling him.

Of course she had gone home on Monday smelling of him, but that was different. On the two days she had worked with him, they had been unusually polite and quiet to one another. The tension between them was high and awkward and Brennan didn't like it at all. All she could think about was how she hadn't even asked Booth what was bothering him on Monday, when he had told her that he had had a bad day. Of course, she couldn't ask him now. She did her best to stay away from him after all.

A small part of her wondered whether she should just tell Angela, and talk with Booth, just to get rid of this awful tension. But then, she told herself, the tension would still be there. _It's always going to be there. We can't just go back to being friends after sleeping together._

Angela had told her that- that it was basically impossible for two people who had had sex to just go back to being friends- only Angela had inserted a couple of euphemisms just to prove her point, naturally. _If you do_, she had said, _you want more. You always do._

Brennan didn't want more. She couldn't help but feel that the last week was a perfect example of why she should keep away from Booth and only interact with him on a professional basis. She felt annoyed- at herself mostly. How could she have done that- had sex with a colleague in a room where anybody could have walked past and seen what they were doing? _Or heard what we were doing_, she thought and her cheeks blushed. She felt annoyed and confused by all of the feelings churning around inside of her. Usually, if something was worrying her like this was, she would have gone to talk to Booth. But not now. He wasn't part of the solution; he was very much part of the problem.

Brennan sat in her office on Friday night. As usual, it was late, and she was the last one working. The light in her office was the only one turned on, shining out into the vast space of the lab. She left her door open as she sat at her computer, and continued to work on her latest novel, storming towards her deadline. It was impossible. Every time she looked at what she had done so far, her eyes found the part she had typed just before Booth had arrived on Monday night. She had barely continued on since then. After all, she had been a little…distracted.

"We need to talk."

Brennan jumped so high she almost fell out of her seat. She looked up warily at the door. It was Booth. He stalked right into her office, fingers running through his hair. Brennan smiled to herself as she drank in the sight of him- two days seemed like 2 weeks. She looked at the way his jeans hung low on his hips, at his black shirt and leather jacket, knowing exactly what lay beneath those clothes, and remembering with intense accuracy…

She cleared her throat as her face flushed. He stopped pacing and looked over at her.

"Talk about what?" She asked quietly, and he snorted loudly, dismissing any efforts she thought she had of acting dumb.

"You know what, Temperance." His eyes bored into her like a laser. She paused, and shut her laptop quietly, remaining in her seat.

"Monday night…" She clarified awkwardly. "Right. We do need to talk."

Booth watched every movement she was making, before continuing.

"Really, we should have talked about this, I dunno, say Tuesday? But of course, you've been avoiding me, so-"

"I haven't been avoiding you, Booth." Brennan defended herself. "I've been busy, it's been a chaotic week."

"Chaotic? Or bad? And are you referring to the whole week, or just Monday night?" He blurted out. She recoiled at the harshness of his tone, as he ran a hand over his face and exhaled deeply.

" Even if it was a mistake, we should have at least talked about it-"

"You think it was a mistake?" Brennan asked softly, a hint of surprise in her voice. Booth stared at her.

"Lets forget about me and what I think for the moment here. I'm not the problem."

Brennan stood quickly.

"I wasn't aware that we had a problem." She told him, moving across the room to dump some files on a messy pile. On the way back, he caught her arm and turned her to him. His eyes were looking deeply into hers.

"Of course we have a problem." He told her. She stared down at his hand, hooked around her elbow.

"Let go of me Booth. I could make you, but it would just be a lot easier if you let go yourself."

Booth gave a stubborn half smile, and if anything, tightened his grip.

"You could make me. But you won't." His sureness concerning what she would and wouldn't do pissed her off. She tugged her arm in an attempt to get free from him, to no avail.

Brennan rolled her eyes and sighed. " We just had sex, Booth. I'm not really seeing the problem." His eyes flashed and he gritted his teeth, but he didn't release her, and when he spoke, his voice, low and dark, was still calm.

"When you avoid me, Brennan, there is a problem. I know you. I know when you're happy, I know when you're sad." He stopped. "I know when you're scared. This is you pulling away because somebody managed to get past your walls, and you're waiting for them to run. I'm not going anywhere, Bones." His grip loosened a fraction, and his hand trailed down. His fingers interlocked with hers, and she automatically felt her fingers squeezing his, no matter how much she regretted it a few seconds later.

"You think it was a mistake, " Booth continued, and his voice hesitated as he spoke those words. " You've probably gone through all the ways that it wasn't professional, and listed all the things that are going to go wrong from now on right?"

There was silence. He had that look in his eyes again, urging her to speak.

"You seem to know exactly how I feel. What about you?" She spoke quietly, watching him for any hint of a reaction. He moved his head. Brennan pulled her hand away from his. "What did you think about Monday night, Booth?"

Another silence followed. Booth took a step backwards. Brennan thought that he was going to leave, and she prepared herself to say something to stop him from leaving. He was right, they needed to discuss this. Part of her didn't want him to leave because she was eagerly awaiting his response to her question.

But he didn't move backwards for the door. Instead, he moved forwards, and his hands went to her waist and pushed her back up against the wall. Her shirt rode up, and his fingers splayed across the creamy skin of her exposed stomach. She exhaled suddenly, and in reply to her question, he leant and pressed a kiss against her lips.


	3. Think with your heart, not your head

**_Okay- quite a short chapter but with good reason- after all of you were so fabulous with adding story alerts, favouriting, reviewing, I had to add another chapter because you all made me happy :) But I know that the next couple of days are going to be kind of hectic so instead of leaving it, I decided to post a quick chapter- better than nothing right? I promise the next chapter I add will be longer. Sorry for any errors!_**

**_This is just a kind of filler chapter but I think it's got some important stuff in it- and don't forget the necklace! And I think Booth's bad day is going to be quite relevant...do you guys want no angst, a little angst, or buckets of angst?_**

**_I'm not too sure when this story is set, so if anyone has any preferences, let me know- I wanted something with lots of Zack (because he's so cute!) but there's some really sweet Brennan/ Booth stuff later on when he wasn't in it so much. Any thoughts?_**

**_Finally, going back to what I mentioned before, lots and lots of thanks to everyone who reviewed/alerted/favourited- I think I've got a lot of people to keep happy! :)_**

**_x~Enjoy!~x_**

Brennan was unable to control the kiss. She was just collecting her thoughts after Booth had pushed her into the wall- she wasn't hurt, and she knew that if this was a normal situation, he never would have pushed her like that. If on the rare chance that he had, he would have been anxiously checking on her every five seconds. She could see it in his eyes; the passion that he was already lost in. Brennan wasn't at all scared. Even seeing that in his eyes, she trusted him entirely.

_It's myself I can't trust_, She thought regretfully.

Brennan remained still as Booth's cool lips pressed against hers. She was suddenly (somewhat irrationally)determined to stay totally immobile until he let go of her. However, the best, sturdiest plans often fail, as she should have known, and by the time he brought his hand up to the wall beside her head , splaying the fingers over the hard surface so that she couldn't move away, she had already clearly stopped wanting to. Shutting her eyes as she relaxed, she grabbed the front of his jacket fiercely and pulled him closer to her. She felt him smiling into her mouth, as the hand that wasn't pressed up against the wall crept down to the small of her back, slipping under the back of her shirt and caressing the satin-smooth skin that he was already coming to love. In response, she kissed him harder, wanting to wipe the smile completely off of his face. Sure enough, a minute or so later, Booth wasn't smiling any more. His hands had moved up from the small of her back, to her neck, before burying themselves in her glorious, soft hair. Hers were around his waist, running up and down his back, and wishing away the layers of his shirt and his jacket, as she remembered tracing her fingers down over his shifting muscles, as he moved around on top of her…

And just like that, in a mere second or so, it was all over as Brennan realised what she was doing, _again. _Her whole body became immediately Booth kissed her, her eyes snapped open, and she fought against how good what they were doing felt, and how wrong she knew it was. If she had been using her heart to select her choice, the first definitely would have prevailed- however, as she relied on her head, the latter won. Her hands moved up to his chest, gently but firmly pushing him away. Booth broke off the kiss reluctantly, but with an air of acceptance, like he had been expecting this. He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth, like he was wiping away her kiss. Brennan leaned back against the wall, biting her lip nervously.

"Y'know, I was kinda enjoying that." He teased her, with a smile on his face. He seemed much more relaxed than Brennan felt. " It's been, what, a week since our last kiss, right?" His smile faded. He fiddled with something small in the palm of his hand; _probably one of his endless bouncy balls_, Brennan thought ruefully. "I know that there's something wrong, Bones." He gave her a small half-smile and, seemingly to spare her any more embarrassment than he knew she would already be feeling, lowered his voice considerably. "I can tell how much you wanted that. Then you just pull away. So what's going on?"

Brennan sighed and eyed her desk, wondering if she could get there without him stopping her. _I'm thinking like he's going to throw me down onto the couch and force himself on me_, she chastised herself. Booth, as though reading her mind, swung away from her. Brennan walked to her desk and sank slowly into the chair. Booth sat on the arm of the couch facing her, elbows leaning on his knees.

"There's nothing wrong, Booth. I'm fine."

Booth rolled his eyes. "Sure," He drawled sarcastically, "And pigs can fly. Look. Just imagine this is a regular day for us, like none of this happened, okay?"

"But it did happen!" Brennan snapped, forgetting her earlier resolution to not admit this. "If this was just us, on a normal day, after work, then I would tell you. But it isn't, is it? " She looked down at her closed laptop. "Everything is different now."

Booth paused and snapped his fingers, pointing silently in her direction. Brennan recognised that he had had a "revelation."

"What?" She asked slowly and warily.

"That's what's wrong." Booth announced triumphantly.

"What's what's wrong?" Brennan said immediately. Booth leaned closer.

"That. You, thinking that everything has changed. That's right, isn't it, huh?"

"No!" Brennan said loudly, and indignantly, but her cheeks flushed a shade of rose pink, and Booth noticed right away.

"Bingo. I knew it. You think because we had sex, that everything is going to change, right? That we won't be able to do everything we normally do." Booth got to his feet, and walked closer. "Two people starting a relationship doesn't have to affect the friendship, Brennan. If anything, it can make it closer." He put his hands on her desk and leaned over, so that he was towering over her, blocking out the light.

"I…care about you, Temperance. A lot. I would kill for you, I would die for you-" He coughed, embarrassed, " And, y'know, I guess on Monday night you could tell how much I want you, in…that way."

Brennan looked down briefly as Booth paced, never losing eye contact with her.

"But- things before were…okay- you never mentioned, you never pushed the idea into my head- why are you doing it now?"

Booth ran his fingers through his hair.

"Because before, I had no idea that there was a chance that you felt the same way as me. If I had known…" He sighed. "I would have done something, _anything_, about it Bones. I swear. This isn't some random, spur of the moment thing, and despite what you seem to think, okay, in my eyes, Monday night wasn't a one-night stand." Booth hesitated. "And, y'know, that isn't my way of pressuring you or anything. Just so we're clear."

"I know." She assured him quickly. He smiled at her gratefully. Brennan stopped before continuing.

"Some of the things that you've said Booth, I have to admit, have truth behind them…however crudely put." Booth rolled his eyes. "My career is one of the most important things in my life. Without it, I wouldn't be me. It's what I've wanted to do for years, and it's given me things I wouldn't put at risk for anything; friends. Angela, Hodgins…Zach-" She looked up at him, "And you. Booth, I value our friendship more than anything. And if there's anything that I can do to protect it, I have to do it. And if having…a relationship…with you threatens that-"

"You don't know that it will." Booth swiftly interrupted. Brennan nodded.

"I do. I'm not certain, of course, there's no way that I can know, but…it's bound to change things. How other people see us, how we see each other, how we act towards each other…and what about when we split up?"

"IF, not when," Booth told her, "You're right Bones. It could change all the things you said, but it doesn't necessarily have to change them for the worse. Things might go great between us, who knows? Definitely not us, if we never try it." He studied her for a minute or so more in silence, his eyes boring into her. He sighed, and brushed his hands across his face, from forehead to chin, like he was wiping away all of his emotions. Brennan watched as he moved to the doorway.

"Think about it, Temperance. Please. Just…think about whether it's worth the risk. And think with your heart…not your head." With that he was gone, leaving Brennan with her thoughts.


	4. Tell her you love her

**Hello again!**

**Okay, the usual stuff- I apologise if there are any errors (although I read it through, there always seems to be some of them) and as it might be clear, I'm still undecided when this story is set. Some people commented, which I'm very grateful for btw, but I'm still confused- I need to make up my mind quickly, though. I can't keep leaving out Zach forever, and I can't keep avoiding whether or not Hodgins and Angela are together, especially with...whats coming up. Oh yeah- I'm evil :)**

**Thank you to all of the people so far who have reviewed and favourited and added story alert- they make my day, especially the reviews. They're the reason I keep writing!**

**Speaking of, Christmas coming up and all, I probably will be taking a break for a couple of weeks, but I'll probably be able to add a couple more chapters before the big day!**

**x~x**

**And btw- the flashback dream thing I put in towards the end was to make up for the lack of Brennan/ Booth interaction, which I know EVERYBODY is interested in. Enjoy!**

Brennan left the lab soon after Booth had. She considered calling him, but stubbornly put the thought right to the back of her head. His words burnt her, the need behind them making her nervous and unsteady. She remembered everything perfectly. The part of their conversation that concerned his feelings came into her mind as she slid into her car, and she blushed.

"_I…care about you, Temperance. A lot. I would kill for you, I would die for you- And, y'know, I guess on Monday night you could tell how much I want you, in…that way."_

Brennan started the car engine, and drove smoothly out of the parking lot, rubbing the flushed skin of her forehead as she turned round the corner. She felt suddenly sleepy, as she tried in vain to keep her eyes open. She had practically been working non-stop for the last week, and it was starting to take its toll. As she stopped at a junction, she pinched the bridge of her nose, wincing as her headache throbbed painfully. _I need some coffee_, She thought, as she continued to drive, _And aspirin. Lots and lots of aspirin._

Before she got home, she stopped off at a store, and stocked up. She had a feeling that the weekend wasn't going to be a lot of laughs.

She was right. She spent the weekend in bed, determined to get better, if only to prove to the niggling voice in the back of her head that she wasn't just trying to avoid Booth. Brennan actually did feel ill. She had a slight temperature, body aches, tiredness, etc- typical flu symptoms, nothing to worry about. She took some flu relief tablets, and lazed around her apartment on Saturday and Sunday. She spent most of her time thinking about what Booth would be doing. _Maybe he'll be with Parker? _She thought, but had to admit she had no idea. She remembered that Rebecca had asked to see him on Monday morning, but she had never found out what it was about. Part of her wanted to go over and see him- the other was terrified that if she carried out this simple, routine action of their friendship, he would jump to the conclusion that she wanted…a relationship.

So she stayed in her apartment. Angela might have called it "moping", but even the fact that Brennan felt like crap didn't stop her from working. She finished a couple of chapters of her book, to please her editor. She wasn't too sure about her work, but, although she tried to deny it, it wasn't only to pacify her editor, but also to distract herself. Rest, plenty of fluids and the right medication helped her flu symptoms, but they didn't get rid of the dull ache in her chest. Brennan knew that that had nothing to do with her flu. It had to do with the fact that she felt guilty, and pressured. She knew that Booth wouldn't have liked to put her under this sort of pressure, to ask her to put her feelings under scrutiny, and knowing how desperate he must have been made her feel terrible.

The next morning, Brennan did something practically unheard of for her; she called the lab and told them that she was ill, and wouldn't be in work that day. They were totally fine about it, if a little worried- this was Doctor Temperance Brennan. She _never_ had days off work. They put it down to a severe illness, as they had first hand experience with the woman. It almost took wild horses to stop her from coming into work.

Of course, by Monday, her flu wasn't as bad. Brennan felt a lot better, after resting (for the majority of her time.) By lunchtime, she was almost wishing that she had gone into work after all. She was tempted to go in, and work late to make up for her absence in the morning, but she forced herself not to. She couldn't risk the chance that there might be a case, that Booth might be at the lab, wanting her…help.

The only way she could sate the feeling of guilt at how unprofessional she was acting, leaving everybody else to carry the load of work that she had encouraged them to carry, she called Angela at about one o'clock, when she knew there was a chance her friend would be taking a late dinner break. She was lucky; Angela was available, and answered the call on the very first ring.

"Brennan! Where are you? Cam said you were sick."

"I am sick. Or, I was, I'm feeling much better."

She heard the rustle of plastic wrapping, and the pause as Angela took a loud bite of whatever she was eating for lunch that day, and chewed.

"Well, good, sweetie, I was worried. It's not exactly like you to miss work, is it?"

Brennan smiled down the phone. "That's kind of why I'm calling, Ange- I was wondering if you could collect some case notes and files for me, so that I could work from home for the next few days-?"

She heard a clunk as Angela set something down on her desk. There was a pause. "Okay. Now I'm officially worried."

"What do you mean?"

Even with the distance between them, Brennan knew that her friend was now rolling her eyes. "There is something seriously wrong with you, sweetie."

Brennan frowned. _Dammit_. "What makes you think that?"

"Brennan, I remember years ago when you ended up in A&E with a broken arm after some jerk drove his truck into the back of your car, and you came into work. You were in absolute _agony_, but you _still_ came in to work. There is no way that you'd voluntarily stay off from work if you just had the flu." Angela paused, thinking. "Unless it's something more serious, and you're just not telling me."

Now it was Brennan's turn to roll her eyes at the receiver. "Trust me, Angela, it's just the flu."

Her friend sighed. "But then why aren't you here?" She thought. "Has Booth got something to do with this?" There was a silence. When Brennan spoke, her voice was slow and tentative.

"What do you mean? What could Booth possibly have to do with my having flu?" Brennan winced, waiting to see if Angela called her on her clear change in attitude, at the nervousness in her voice. She was praying that her friend hadn't noticed anything.

She gave a sigh of relief as Angela carried on regardless.

"Oh come on, sweetie, everyone in the lab knows how over-protective he is over you. I swear to God, if that man thought you had a splinter, he would have you down in the emergency room having a panic attack himself."

Brennan smiled bitterly. "I guess so." She said quietly. Then she coughed loudly. "But no, its got nothing to do with Booth. I haven't even seen him for a few days."

"What?" Angela sounded alarmed. "Is he okay?"

Brennan bit her lip. She wanted to confide in Angela, but she also wanted to keep this whole messy situation as secret as possible. She forced herself to speak normally.

"Yeah, I think so. He's just been busy, I guess we all have."

"Even if he was busy, he would have made time to come and see you." Angela mused, "Maybe I should call him-"

"No." Brennan said firmly, gripping the receiver. "I don't want to bother him, really, Ange. I just feel like I'd feel a whole lot better after a few days at home. Could you bring me my work? Please?"

A few minutes later, Angela had ended her phone call with Brennan, after promising to deliver all of her work an hour later. She knew immediately that something was wrong with her friend. She could read her like a book, and had noticed right away how she had reacted when she had asked about Booth. She also knew that Booth would never put work before Brennan. Something was going on with them, and Angela promised herself that she would find out what it was.

She tossed her half eaten sandwich in the trash can, and made her way to Brennan's office. It was, as she had expected, empty, as she opened the door and fumbled with the light switch. Shutting the door behind her, she surveyed the room. It looked the same as it always did, yet different-the only obstruction from total neatness being the haphazard piles of files. They were a sign of how flustered Brennan had clearly been over the last week. Her office only looked like this in times of great pressure, like when the team were stuck with a particularly hard case, or one that hit too close to home. However messy the piles were, Angela knew from experience that they were all arranged in a particular order.

But the files were the last thing on her mind right now. She had the opportunity to have a look around before leaving for Brennan's flat. She couldn't waste it.

But, much to her annoyance, there didn't seem to be much to discover here. Brennan had taken her laptop home with her, so there was no chance of snooping in her files. Instead, Angela moved to the desk, and sat carefully down on the chair, looking around the room. Her hands fell to the surface of the desk. Sliding backwards in the chair, Angela pulled open the first drawer. It was full of neat files. She picked out the top one and thumbed through it, but it held no interest to her; it was full of scientific notes, and although Angela was very smart, she was primarily an artist. The odd word made sense to her, but that was basically it. Sighing, she knew that there was nothing important in this drawer.

The next drawer down contained pens, and a couple of data storage devices; seeing that they were labelled "Work" Angela tossed them back. About to give up, she pulled open the third and final drawer.

There was a sheaf of papers. Angela lifted them, and although seeing that they had hidden numerous other objects, she flicked through them. An official looking document saying that her request for a gun had been denied, dated a couple of years back. The odd page from Brennan's last book, marked with red pen and notes. An email from her editor, telling her about sales figures and deadlines. Angela stacked them all carefully onto the surface of the desk, and looked down with excitement into the drawer.

The papers had hid a number of things. Sadly, some of them were the same boring stuff she had found previously, like pens. Angela knew that Brennan would keep anything really personal at her home, but she still looked quickly.

There was an address book, filled with numbers and email addresses. There was a couple of postcards, which Angela dismissed. And then there were pictures. Lots of them. They were unlike the pictures she had seen in the file of the first drawer- they weren't photos of victims, or suspects, they weren't x-rays. They were pictures of the team, all of them together, then separately- Brennan and Angela, Angela and Hodgins, etc. And there, at the very bottom of the pile was a picture of Brennan and Booth.

Angela checked the date on the back of the photo- it had been taken last year, but she didn't remember taking it. _It must have been Hodgins_, she thought fondly, seeing the blur of a thumb in the bottom corner. She recognised where it had been taken, however-she could see the windows of the diner in the background. Brennan and Booth were sat down, both with a drink in front of them, and Booth had thrown his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. She was smiling brightly at the camera. Booth was smiling too, but it was a thoughtful smile, and his eyes were not focussed on the camera; they were focussed on Brennan. He was looking at her with wonder on his face, like he couldn't believe that he was really there, with her; he was looking at her like he loved her.

Angela sighed deeply. Brennan kept the photo, it was clear that it meant something to her. How did she look at it and not see how Booth felt about her? It made Angela want to scream with frustration.

Carefully, after rummaging through the bottom of the drawer, she replaced everything, checking the other two drawers to make sure everything was more or less in place.

Standing with a sigh, Angela pushed the chair back underneath the desk and resigned herself to collecting the files that Brennan had asked for. She paused for a moment, remembering what Brennan had said.

"The pile of blue files on the desk…" Angela muttered to herself, slapping her palm down onto them as she spotted them. "And only the green and yellow files from the pile on the cupboard by the chair…"She frowned at how specific Brennan's orders were- _how much time has she been spending here?_ She wondered, moving across the room to the cupboard, scooping up the files and dumping them on the sofa. Quickly, she began to sift through them, putting the green and yellow files away from the rest. Half of the remaining pile slipped and fell. With a sigh, Angela knelt down on the floor and reached under the couch for the files. She found them and shoved them back onto the pile, but as she was checking to see if she had missed any, her fingers bushed over something cool and metallic. Pausing, she reached underneath and pulled the object out. Only when she had cleared a space on the couch and sat down did she open her palm to look at what she had found.

It was a St Christopher necklace, simple but in a way, elegant- not just _a_ St Christopher, but _the_ St Christopher necklace, _Booth's_ St Christopher necklace. Angela knew that she wasn't mistaken. Her artists eye allowed her to recognise it instantly, examining it quickly until she was certain that this belonged to Booth.

_But he never takes it off, _Angela thought_, How did it end up under there? Why would he take it off in Brennan's office and not take it with him when he left?_

_Unless he had more important things on his mind_, a small voice in the back of her head whispered and Angela froze. She was barely aware of the movements in her head, as the cogs and wheels began to spin, as everything slotted into place. When she came back to reality, it was like she had known all along, known that Brennan and Booth had clearly-

"Angela?" Angela whipped round in shock at the sound, her hand flying to her chest as she looked at the figure in the doorway. The sudden movement knocked the files, and even more than before tumbled to the floor loudly.

Booth winced at the bang. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. I knocked, but I guess you were too busy…" He focussed on the scene in front of him. "What are you doing?"

As he moved closer into the room, Angela looked him up and down quickly. He looked terrible. Gorgeous as usual, of course, but terrible. His face was slightly paler than usual (only by a fraction, but nothing got by Angela's critical eyes). His chin was shadowed with stubble, and Angela also noticed the dark shadows underneath his eyes. _He hasn't been sleeping_, she realised.

However, he seemed alert enough. Angela was relieved at the fact that she couldn't smell alcohol on his breath, anyhow.

"I'm just collecting some files for Brennan to take to her apartment. She's sick." She added, watching him carefully for a reaction.

Booth nodded; he seemed worried and agitated as he next spoke. "I heard. Is she okay?"

Angela shrugged. "So she says. But you know Brennan, she doesn't like to make a big deal out of things."

"I know." Booth nodded fervently. Angela watched him.

"So, how come you don't know that?" She asked, folding her arms, "Haven't you been to see her?"

"I wanted to-" Booth began, but looked down at his hands, which were fiddling with something repetitively. "But I thought I'd…I didn't think…"

"Booth." Angela said quietly. He looked up at her, as she came closer. When they were a metre or so apart, she held out her hand. The St Christopher lay in the middle of her palm, shining brightly.

Booth froze, his eyes caught on the necklace in Angela's hand. He swallowed, and opened his mouth as if he was going to speak.

Angela waved her hand. "You don't have to explain. I already know." Angela stopped for a second as she processed how bizarre this situation was. She had always thought that if she ever found out Brennan and Booth had done the horizontal tango, she would be squealing with joy. Instead, she was standing silently, her concern and sympathy for the man in front of her evident on her face.

"She's afraid." Angela began. Booth sank onto the chair and looked at the floor. "She's terrified of letting people in, in case she loses them. This is typical Brennan. Whenever something good, something that makes her really happy happens, it forces her to re-evaluate everything."

"Well, she didn't seem too happy afterwards. "Booth said sarcastically, but glanced up at Angela a few seconds later. "I know this. I know _her_. I talked to her about it, I told her I'm not going to go anywhere, but- she thinks us being together will ruin what we already have."

Angela sighed in exasperation at her best friend. "What do you have, Booth? A "friendship" with two people who are desperately in love with each other, but are too damn scared and stubborn to do anything about it."

"I'm not too scared to do anything about it!" Booth said loudly. He looked up at Angela. "I told her how much…I cared about her, how I'd die for her, I tried to reassure her but-"

"Did you tell her that you love her?" Angela interrupted suddenly. Booth looked at her with wide eyes.

"If she's freaking out already, I think that would give her a heart attack Angela."

"Maybe. Probably. It's highly likely." Angela conceded reluctantly. She looked intently at Booth. "But it might be the only way to show her how serious you are about her."

"I don't know Angela-"

"You said you'd be willing to die for her, right?" Angela burst in loudly. Booth nodded.

"More than willing."

"So do this. If you _really_ feel it for her, if you're completely sure…then do it. Tell her how you feel. Things can't get worse, right?"

There was silence. Booth ran his hands through his hair.

"I told her to make up her mind herself. How can I live with the decision she makes if I'm pressuring her with declarations of my undying love?" He asked. Angela smiled softly.

"Booth, sweetie. This is _Brennan_. Think about everything she's gone through. I know that she trusts you totally, but just think-think how scared she is. You're right not to pressure her, but maybe…maybe she needs to know. Before she can decide."

Angela let her words sink in, surveying Booth like a mother hen watching over her chick. She glanced down at her watch, then back up at Booth. Collecting the green and yellow files, she walked over to the desk and added them to the pile of blue files. When she looked back at Booth, he was watching her curiously.

"She's expecting me in a few minutes at her apartment." She told him quietly. "Go to her."

After a moments hesitation, Booth was on his feet. He collected the files, and waited as Angela dropped the St Christopher's necklace onto the large pile.

"Thank you, Angela." He said slowly. She smiled at him, as he hurried out of the office.

**X~X**

"_Booth-" Brennan cried out. Her voice was ragged, her breathing shallow. "Oh God, Booth." She pushed his head closer into her neck, where he sucked on the flesh. It felt unbelievable, to be here, with Booth. His naked skin felt warm against hers, as both of his hands ran gently over the curves of her body, exploring the smooth pale skin hungrily. When he lifted his mouth to hers, there was desperation in his kisses, and Brennan knew how much he wanted her. The knowledge was sweet and made her groan as she pulled him further to her, wrapping her legs up around his waist and lifting her whole body up so that he could shift between her thighs. He was still kissing her as he slid slowly inside her, but he pulled away as she moaned softly, clutching him as if she would never let go._

"_Booth-"She cried loudly, as his movements became rhythmic, "Booth-"_

Brennan shot up into a sitting position suddenly, her clothes sticking to her body with sweat. She lifted a shaking hand to her forehead. She had a fever, but she felt cold. _So much for feeling better_, she thought ruefully, and her already flushed skin turned even redder as she remembered her dream. _Flu_, she told herself, _Just a side effect from the fever, from the flu. That's all._

Still, this did nothing at all to calm her down. She was trying to slow her racing breathing, when she heard a knock at the front door.

Brennan glanced at the clock on the bedroom wall, and cursed herself for falling asleep.

"Angela." She remembered, and quickly climbed out of bed. She walked unsteadily, not sure whether this was because of her dream, or her fever. _Maybe both, _she considered, seeing _as the dream was actually a result of the fever. _She went into the bathroom, tugged a brush through her hair, splashed cold water onto her face, and thanked her lucky stars for having gotten dressed earlier that day.

The knocking continued. She walked into the living room slowly, trying not to shake. "Alright, Ange, I'm on my way." Brennan called out, and fiddled with the lock on the door.

When she finally managed it and swung the door open, she wanted to swing it back shut again. It wasn't Angela, it was Booth, a pile of files tucked neatly under one arm. He took one, concerned look at her before reaching out a hand to steady her. Brennan didn't know whether to cry with anger, or relief. Neither, she hoped. She lifted a hand to her forehead as pain throbbed inside of her head.

"W-what are you doing her?" She asked him. His concern, still prominent, mixed with another expression as he moved closer.

"We need to talk."


	5. Baring Our Souls

**Okay, this is going to be the last chapter I post in a week or so, as it is Christmas Eve today! So I've made it quite long, specially. But as they say, it isn't the size, it's the content. Surprisingly, no, this isn't some old wives tale about penis size and fertility. Just me who thinks about that when hearing that expression? Ah.**

**Okay the usual stuff- sorry for any errors in punctuaction or spelling but I can't find any in there! If you do, just remember- it's Christmas. Play nice. :)**

**This might seem a bit rushed, and the ending might be a bit crap, but I really wanted... everything that happens to happen. I was watching Bones yesterday, and if I can't get the real pairing together, I can at least get the pairing together in this. Because I kind of write it ( not, of course, that I own any of it. But I can dream, right?)**

**Thanks once again for the response to this story, it's GREATLY appreciated, and you all know who you are. In the next chapter, I'll be naming names :P**

**Please review if you like it/ hate it ( but it is Christmas, a time of joy, and yes, I control this story- no pressure) or have any ideas for what you think should happen next- I do take them into consideration and reviews are part of the fuel that fires up this writing machine!**

**For those of you who celebrate Christmas, I hope you have a great one!**

**~Enjoy!!!~**

Brennan looked down at Booth's hand at her elbow and frowned. She was horribly aware of how crumpled she looked, after falling asleep fully clothed. She lifted a hand to her sweaty forehead and sighed.

"What are you doing here?" She coughed, clearing her voice. Booth immediately looked shifty. He didn't remove his hand from her arm.

"Like I said, we need to talk. Are you okay, Bones?"

Brennan straightened up.

"I'm fine, Booth."

Booth raised his eyebrows.

"Well, you look terrible." He told her harshly. Brennan was too tired to even be indignantly offended.

"I'm sick, Booth- why else wouldn't I be in work?" Brennan asked sharply. She watched as Booth looked down at his shoes, then back up at her.

He shifted uncomfortably as he spoke, removing one hand from her arm and burying both of them deep in his pockets.

"I just though that…maybe, you-" His voice trailed off and he looked at her, with a wide eyed look of either innocence, or disbelief that they were even talking about this in the current moment. Brennan blinked, dazed, and sighed deeply.

"Booth, you really shouldn't be here-"

"I'm not going anywhere until we've talked." Booth told her stubbornly and pushed past her into the apartment. Brennan sighed, hesitating, before moving back and shutting the door. She turned back to face Booth.

He was standing by her sofa, arms folded solidly, making sure she got the message that he meant what he was saying; he wasn't going anywhere. When Booth took a good look at Brennan, his brow furrowed. Brennan spoke hastily before he got the chance.

"Booth, really-"

Booth shifted. "I'm serious, Bones. I'm not going until we've properly discussed this."

Brennan rolled her eyes wearily. "I just meant because of me being sick, Booth. There's no point in both of us being ill."

Booth looked put out- after all, he _had_ just stormed his way into her apartment and completely got the wrong end of what she was saying. Brennan watched patiently as he processed this.

"Oh." Booth said, resigned. Brennan moved past him quickly and went to the bathroom. She got herself a glass of water from the tap and found herself a bottle of aspirin. When she shut the cabinet door, in the reflection of the mirror on the outside, she saw him, leaning on the doorway watching her. Brennan averted her eyes down to the bottle, fumbling with the cap. There was silence in the bathroom as she struggled.

The next thing she knew, Booth had moved beside her, looking down at her face with a frown, as he took the bottle from her. Brennan sighed, one hand on her hip, the other pressed against her face. She pulled it away when she heard the click of the bottle unscrewing. Brennan looked at Booth, but he didn't return the bottle. Instead, he poured two of the aspirin tablets onto his palm, putting the lid back on and returning it to the cabinet.

Booth picked up the glass of water, and handed the tablets to Brennan. She gave him a look, head tilted slightly with exasperation, but he raised his eyebrows. Brennan sighed and reluctantly accepted the tablets. As their hands brushed, he looked into her eyes suddenly. Brennan paused, before popping the tablets into her mouth. Booth quickly handed her the water, and with a small sip she swallowed the tablets.

Once this was done, the tension increased dramatically; their closeness become much more prominent, and there was now nothing to cause distractions. Booth, suddenly and silently, exhaled deeply and took a step closer to the woman in front of him, and lifted his hand to her face. Brennan watched him wordlessly and despite the part of her that was telling her to push him off, she made no move to stop him.

Booth cupped her face in one hand, spreading his fingers slowly over her hot cheek. Brennan swallowed. Booth lifted his other hand to her face too, and tilted her face up to his. Brennan squinted as the light hit her eyes but she could still see him; his deep, chocolate brown eyes, his tousled hair, the obvious frown on his face as he looked at her.

In that second, she opened her dry lips a fraction, like she was going to speak. In that second, Brennan wanted to kiss him. She was so tempted to just lean forward a little bit, and press her lips against his. At that moment, it didn't matter that she had a banging headache, and a temperature that was starting to alarm even her. It didn't even bother her that she hadn't made her choice, whether or not the two of them having a relationship would be worth the risk. All Brennan was thinking clearly about was how much , in her hazy thoughts, she wanted his lips against hers, his cool hands touching her like he had on that night.

But just as she was moving closer to him, Booth had moved away, holding her at arms level and scrutinizing her.

"You should be in bed." He said simply, and then quickly added, "I mean, you should be resting, Bones. Have you seen a doctor?"

Brennan, missing his hands moving from her face to her upper arms, blinked a couple of times before gathering her thoughts enough to answer his question. She rolled her eyes impatiently.

"I don't need a doctor, Booth. It's just a bad case of the flu."

Despite her (albeit plain) attempts to reassure him, Booth only seemed to pick up one word from her sentence.

" '_Bad_'?" He repeated immediately, "Define '_bad_' for me?" Brennan didn't reply, but instead, despite his steadying grip, wobbled ever so slightly. Booth spotted this right away and Brennan saw that he was about to start panicking.

And he did. "Okay. We're getting you to a hospital. _Now_."

Brennan lifted her hands and pushed Booth away. "Booth, I'm fine- going to the hospital won't be necessary. The aspirin are already starting to work, I just need some rest. _Honestly_." She looked at him appealingly.

Booth paused, but nodded slowly. "Okay. Okay. We stay here." Brennan relaxed with a small grateful smile. "But-" Booth tightened his grip on her upper arms and narrowed his eyes. "You don't work. You stay in bed, for the rest of the day. Got it?"

Brennan exhaled loudly, annoyed and disbelieving. "Booth!"

Booth kept his face stubborn. "I know that if I leave you now, Brennan, you'll just start working and probably end up collapsing. So I'm staying. " Booth spotted the incredulous look on Brennan's face and gave a half-smile. "Or, you know, we could just get in the car and drive to the emergency room." He spoke slowly and emphasized every word with a smug smile on his face as he let his words sink in. Booth knew her so well sometimes it was unnerving.

She sighed reluctantly but nodded. "Fine." Booth grinned widely, and Brennan had to smile reluctantly.

Booth guided Brennan out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, one hand on the small of her back, and the other cupping the base of her neck, his thumb running across the flushed skin. Brennan shivered, and closed her eyes, letting him guide her.

"Okay," She heard Booth say, " You just …lay down and rest…and I will go make you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry." Brennan heard herself say, as Booth lead her over to the bed. A wave of nausea rolled over her and she had to blink several times in an attempt to keep her eyes open and her feet on the ground.

Booth looked concerned. "Okay, but you might be later, yeah? And we need to cool you down." He looked around. "Do you have a fan, Bones?"

Brennan nodded weakly. "Cupboard in the living room, bottom shelf." She told him faintly. He looked at her with a nod, looking worried.

"Brennan- are you sure you don't-"

"Remember the deal." She said quickly. "No hospital, rest." She sighed and lifted her hand to fan herself. "It's just so...hot."

Booth bit his lip. "I know, Bones. We need to get you in bed, okay? But-" He hesitated. "Maybe. .maybe you should change-" Brennan nodded weakly but made no move to do anything.

Booth swallowed and nervously clapped his hands.

"Okay…"He muttered quietly, and moved forwards. Slowly, he looked into her eyes.

"Brennan. I need to change your clothes, I need to undress you."

Brennan's eyes widened slightly as she registered this but after a pause, she nodded in agreement.

"Right." Booth nodded and, with a tentative gentleness that only she could bring out in him, he reached forward and began to unbutton her shirt carefully. When he was finished, he pulled the shirt down over her arms; it fell to the floor quietly, a small black piece of fabric falling to the cream thickness of the carpet. Booth rested his fingers on the strap of her white lacy camisole. Her eyes were shut, but it still didn't feel like he could remove it. _She'll be fine in it_, he thought hastily, fingering the thin material.

But when he looked down at her jeans, he knew that this wasn't the case; he knew they had to be removed, but how? Booth thought about shaking Brennan to clear her mind and bring her back from her fever-induced daze but he couldn't do it. He paused and bit his lip, swallowing.

"I need to take off your jeans, Brennan." Booth felt better talking to her, letting her know what he was doing; it made it feel like less of a violation

There was no response. Slowly, Booth reached his hands down and unbuttoned her jeans, sliding down the zipper carefully. He slipped his hands into the waistline of her pants and slowly eased them down. Booth had to bend to pull them all the way down, and when he went to straighten back up, he was caught with the image of Brennan stood before him, in her pale pink panties, her long legs and the curves of her waist. As his hands brushed against her creamy soft skin at her ankles, Booth swallowed. He straightened up immediately and practically had to lift her out of the gathered denim at her feet.

It was strange how, after the events of what he had come to call That Night, when he had seen Brennan totally naked, had touched and kissed Brennan whilst she was totally naked, the sight of her could still make him unsteady, could still bring butterflies to his stomach. Seeing her now, wearing just her panties and a skimpy camisole top, and even earlier, when she had been fully clothed, still made him fall a little more in love with her every time; he didn't even think that that was possible. _Surely there must be a point where I stop falling in love with her every day?_ He thought wonderingly. And then, looking fully at her , he realised, _No. Never._

Booth guided Brennan to the bed, and urged her silently to lie down. When she did so, already overcome by sleep, he didn't cover her back up. He fetched a couple of fans from the cupboard in the living room, and positioned them so that the cool drafts of air would hit her body. When all this was done, he filled a basin with cold water and took it into the bedroom with a flannel.

Brennan didn't stir as he came in. Booth watched her from the doorway for a minute or so, before coming closer. He set the basin down on the floor and carefully began to press the damp flannel against her hot, flushed skin. The whole time, his eyes were focussed on her face as she slept.

When Brennan woke, it was dark outside of her windows. She sat up suddenly, tugging at the light silk sheet that covered her bare legs. Her hair was blown over her shoulder by a gust of cold air from one of the two fans that had been set up beside her bed. Brennan stopped in confusion and lifted a hand to her head. Her skin felt oddly cool. She breathed deeply and pushed her fingers through her hair slowly. She tried to remember what had happened, and it all came flooding back to her; her fever, her call to Angela, Booth-

Brennan strained as she listened. Sighing, she climbed out of bed and shivered slightly, as she found her silk robe and wrapped it round her. Carefully, relishing in the absence of a headache, she walked over and opened the door slowly.

She padded into the living room, and saw him. Booth was lying on the sofa, fast asleep. Brennan stood watching him, a faint smile on her face. His jacket was thrown over a chair, and there was a coffee cup on the table in front of him, beside a basin of water, a flannel inside. Brennan moved forward, collected the coffee cup and the basin, and took it into the kitchen. She returned a minute or so later empty handed. She moved towards him, and crouched beside where his head rested. Brennan slowly ran her fingers over his cheek; once his eyes began to flutter, she pulled her hand back quickly.

Booth opened his eyes slowly, and after a second or so, his eyes focussed on Brennan. Immediately, he sat up, running a hand through his hair and bringing it down to his face.

"Oh God. I fell asleep." Brennan smiled inwardly as he looked at her intently with an expression that was equal parts guilt and worry. "Brennan, are you okay?" His eyes were urgent as he waited for an answer.

Brennan stood, and held a hand to calm him down.

"I'm fine, Booth." She watched as he relaxed. "I feel a lot better than before." She smiled gently at him. "So…thank you."

Booth yawned and stood up, stretching. Brennan looked away quickly as this action exposed several inches of tanned muscular skin on his stomach.

"What for?" Booth asked lightly. Brennan gave him a look.

"For looking after me."

Booth gave her a soft half-smile. "I'll always look after you, Bones- it's what I do."

Brennan looked at him quietly, and pushed her hair of her face.

"Do you want me to open some windows?" He gestured towards them. Brennan shook this offer off.

"I'm fine, compared to before. " She gestured towards the kitchen. "Can I make you something to eat?"

Booth shook his head. "No, no. Now that you're awake, I'll make something for us both, okay?"

"Booth, I'm fine-"

Booth cut her off immediately.

"Nuh-uh. Bedroom, now. Go, rest." Brennan gave him another look, but turned, and walked back into the bedroom.

As soon as she shut the door quietly, and was satisfied with the noises coming from the kitchen, she hurriedly found her cell phone, and called Angela.

Her friend picked up her phone almost immediately. "Brennan, hey! How are you? Did Booth give you your files?"

_Files? _Brennan thought. She hastened to answer.

"Yes, thank you. I wasn't really expecting him to deliver them, though…"

Angela sighed. "I know, I'm sorry, I just… thought the two of you needed to talk." She paused. "And did you- _talk_?"

Brennan paused. She wondered just how much Angela knew, but cast her worries to one side, prompted by a bang from the kitchen. "Not really. I've actually been asleep almost since he got here."

Brennan heard the smile in her friends voice as she spoke. "Slept, huh? _Alone_?"

"_Yes_, alone. " Brennan replied somewhat sharply. Angela covered the desire to laugh with a cough. "Look, forget about me talking with Booth, I need to talk to you. Urgently."

"Oh really?" Angela grinned over the phone suggestively. Brennan rolled her eyes at the receiver and spoke quietly.

"It's about Hodgins." She blurted out.

"Hodgins?" Angela repeated, confused, " You've called to talk about… Hodgins?"

"Yes. And if you're going to help me, it needs to be now, and quickly-Booth is just next door."

"So?"

"He could come any minute, Ange."

"In your bedroom? I bet he could." Brennan could hear Angela smirking and she sighed impatiently. "Okay, sweetie, hit me. What do you need help on, and why does it involve Hodgins?"

Brennan took a deep breath.

"I need to know what it was that made you allow yourself to fall in love with him."

There was a silence as Angela processed this request.

"Okay, now I'm freaked out. What's going on there, Brennan?" Angela asked.

"Just…please, Angela. I need to know." Her friend sighed again.

"What do you mean by ' allowing myself to fall in love'? Falling in love with him wasn't something that I planned, Bren."

"What made you give in and just accept what was happening?" Brennan asked quickly, lowering her voice as she heard Booth whistling from the kitchen. " You had doubts about being in a relationship with him, didn't you?"

Angela changed the phone to her other hand, pressing it up against her ear. "I guess, yeah. I was scared that it wouldn't be worth the risk, of starting something that I knew there was chances of ending badly. And then I had to face the thought of how that would change the friendship, the atmosphere and dynamics at work.." She sighed. "It was a lot to consider."

"And was it worth it? Worth the risk?"

"Well, Bren, it may not have ended like I thought it would, but.. If I had the chance to do it again, then, yeah, I would." Brennan took this in quietly.

"So what made you see past that?"

Angela stopped. She could only imagine how bad things must have been for Booth not to tell Brennan what he had intended to. Part of her felt like she should be gentle with the truth, the other felt the burning desire to be loyal to her friend, to make her happy.

She sighed, and took her glasses off.

"Brennan. Do you love him?"

Brennan recoiled from the receiver as if it had burnt her ear. She spent a minute just sat, the phone away from her ear, and listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen. She swallowed, and lifted the phone back to her ear.

"Yes. " She whispered, quietly. " I love Booth."

Angela flopped back into her chair with a joyous smile on her face. How long had she been waiting to hear her friend confess that? "I know, sweetie. And he loves you."

Brennan bit her lip. "I know. And he wants me to make a decision. But I don't know what to do-"

"What is there to think about?!" Angela cried in exasperation, but rethought her approach. "Look, Brennan, listen to me. You're afraid that risking having a relationship, if it ends badly, then your friendship will end too. But that's if, not when, sweetie. I should be telling you to try it out, and let life take it's toll. But with you and Booth, there's more I need to say."

"Go on. " Brennan muttered quietly.

"I've watched you and Booth for years now. You snipe and bicker and you constantly disagree on things- I should know, I've seen it often enough. But I've also seen the other things. The way you spend every day together, the way he protects you, always. You and Booth could never _not_ be together, as friends or otherwise. And I can't tell you if your romantic relationship will last forever but I can tell you this; he is always going to be in love with you. And you can deny it, but you are always going to be in love with him too, Brennan."

There was a silence as Angela's words sank in. Brennan swallowed, as the cold air licked at her skin, She pulled the robe closer to her body, and stared at the phone.

Angela remained quiet. She knew that she had just addressed Brennan's fears- probably exactly, judging by her silence. She wanted to speak, to find out what Brennan was thinking right now, but it didn't seem right to ask, when she was sure Brennan's thoughts were already jumbled enough as it was.

Brennan coughed awkwardly. "Thank you, Angela. Really."

"No problem, sweetie. " Angela said honestly, and when Brennan hung up, she was left with a light, dazed feeling of joy, mixed with desperation to learn what was going on, and old memories.

Booth was at the stove, spooning sauce over the two plates of steaming pasta. He inhaled the smell appreciatively, and switched the stove off. Taking off his apron, he walked over to the bedroom door, and slowly opened it.

Brennan sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at her hands fiddling with the girdle of her robe.

"Hey. "He said quietly, coming fully into the room. Brennan looked up at him with a nervous smile. "Dinner's ready. You coming into the living room?"

Brennan nodded slowly. Booth focussed on her properly. "Are you feeling okay, Brennan?"

Brennan nodded hurriedly. When she spoke, her voice was almost foreign to her.

"No, no, I'm…I'm fine." Brennan smiled at him, and got to her feet. She took a step towards him.

"Did you turn the stove off?" She asked lightly. Puzzled, Booth nodded.

"Okay. Good." Brennan said. She was incredibly nervous. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she had no idea if she was being stupid and hasty in her decision making.

But as soon as she was in front of him, looking into his eyes, and reaching up for him, everything became clear. As her lips pressed against his, she knew that what she was doing was right. In that second, she was certain that this moment alone was worth every single one of the risks.

Booth lifted his hands and buried them in her hair. Brennan let her hands drift to her front and she untied the girdle of her robe; it fell to the floor with a swish noise as it hit the carpet. Brennan pressed her body up against Booth and deepened the kiss. Her hands now moved to his shirt, and he helped her to pull it over his head. He pushed her closer towards the bed, and they collapsed onto the covers, never losing touch. Brennan moaned as Booth bit her neck gently, and sucked on the flesh. Brennan lifted her hands to push him closer, half lost in ecstasy.

Suddenly, Booth pulled away, and captured Brennan's gaze in his own. There was that look in his face, the urge to speak that she had seen so many times before to no avail. But not this time.

"I love you." He told her. The words blurted out from his lips before he could stop them. Brennan, trapped underneath his body, looked up at him, with disbelieving eyes. Booth searched her face for emotions. Brennan swallowed.

"I love you." The words were quiet, and they had been spoken quickly, echoing in the unbelievable silence that followed. They were hasty, and soft, but they had been spoken. They rang in Booth's ears, and Brennan's gaze, however uncertain, never wavered from his own.

Before Brennan knew what was happening, Booth was kissing her again, with even more passion than before. As Brennan's hand moved down for the zipper of his pants, he groaned, and lifted his hand to trail down her soft, thin camisole top.


	6. Remember the rules

**Okay, sorry to say that this is another filler-y chapter- I've skipped some stuff, clearly, but at this point I just wanted to get them together!**

**Thanks again for all the reviews and favourites, and story alerts ( 86 story alerts! One of the highest I've ever had!) and they mean a lot!**

**I'm especially grateful to the people who take the time to review, and give me their feedback, so I thought I'd give you some credit!**

**I am 99.9 % sure that I've got you all, because I got all obsessy and checked it about twenty times, but if I've missed anyone off, I'm very sorry.**

**So, in no particular order-**

**_ILoveBooth_**

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**_MadKatMom_**

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**~Enjoy!~**

Brennan didn't think that she would ever get used to waking up next to Booth. Sure, it felt right; when she was next to him, on Tuesday morning, the sun creeping through the cracks in the window blinds, as she lay, the covers draped over her, Booth's hand laying protectively over her stomach, she felt…_safe. _Safer than she had felt in as long as she could remember. And yet, despite this, she knew it was going to take some time to get used to. She lay still and watched him sleep, watched his peaceful face as he was lost in slumber, and smiled slowly to herself; she would get used to it. They had all the time in the world.

The night before, Monday night, after they had had sex (lots and lots of sex) and Booth had fussed over her for at least fifteen minutes, they had talked. _Properly_ talked. It seemed strange to Brennan that they had known each other for years now, and had shared some pretty intense conversations, but then it could get even more intense. Brennan had gone through relationships before, gone through post-coital conversations before (although they seemed pathetic, compared to this) and the one with Booth had been the hardest she had ever had.

Understandable, really, as he, even when their relationship had had boundaries that restricted them to just friends, had been closer to her than any body else- in many ways, he knew more about her than her own brother, her own father. Looking at it that way, this made the conversation they shared a little easier; he knew her problems, he knew what she was worried about, and he didn't just dismiss her fears. Booth talked to her, helped her.

Brennan had stayed at home on Tuesday as well, not by choice. Booth had insisted that she remain there. Brennan could tell that he was worrying about her still, about the state he had found her on when he had turned up the previous day.

It was a lot for them to accept, Brennan especially. Seeing as some people regarded her as cold and unfeeling the last few days would have shocked them. She had willingly began something that had in turn led to two people discussing their feelings and now she was in…a relationship. She was happier than she had been in ages. She had taken a risk, and it had worked well. Better than just "_Well_"- things were fantastic. There were some things about the relationship she couldn't understand, that went against beliefs she had had for years but it didn't matter. This was a risk, and she had never been happier, never felt safer.

And for now, as they had both agreed, they would keep it to themselves; just their little secret.

_**--------- X~x~X---------------**_

"Did you have sex with Booth?"

Brennan looked up immediately, her heart skipping a beat. Angela stood before her, arms folded stubbornly as she narrowed her eyes at her friend. Brennan shut the file she was reading and reached casually for the next one.

She didn't reply. Angela rolled her eyes.

"Did you? And I mean recently, as in in the last couple of days, if you were wondering."

"I wasn't. I haven't had sex with Booth recently. Does that answer the question?"

Angela stood her ground as she watched Brennan sigh and reach for another file.

"I see your mouth moving, I hear the words coming out, but no, it doesn't answer my question. This is me, Brennan. You called me on Monday, _in your bedroom_, confessing your love for Booth and asking for my advice. It's now Thursday. Either you got lucky, or we're both going to be very disappointed. _Spill it_."

Brennan looked up impatiently from the file and spoke with an exasperated tone. "Why would you be disappointed? Why does all of this bother you so much, Angela?" Angela exhaled loudly in disbelief and rolled her eyes. Brennan sighed and frowned slightly. Angela narrowed her eyes further, and pursed her lips stubbornly. Brennan recognised this as her friends way of saying that she wasn't going to back down, as she piled the facts up against her. Brennan could argue with a lot of things, but not basic facts; she knew that she was beat.

Brennan simply nodded in response. A wide smile spread instantly across Angela's face, the drop of Brennan's reply spreading like ripples in a pool of water. Angela squealed and before she knew what was happening, the artist had been rushed across and scooped her friend up into a hug. She was still rambling on as Brennan pulled away.

"I can't believe that I was only in the loop the very day it happened, I have been waiting for this for years, and I had no idea-" Brennan couldn't stop the reluctant smile that spread across her face. In the end, she had to hold up a hand to halt the high- speed chattering.

Angela looked confused. "What?"

Brennan laughed, and when she spoke there was a smile in her voice as she stood, and walked over to pick up her coat.

"I thought I'd stop you before you fainted from oxygen deprivation." She pulled on her jacket and rooted through the files and papers on her desk for her car keys and purse. Angela watched her, but wasn't distracted.

"Okay, I know I'm very…over-excited, but I'm also over-_interested_, which means you need to give me details, and fast. Lots and lots of details." Brennan headed to the door, and Angela caught her arm.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where do you think you're going?" Brennan turned slowly to face her.

"I'm meeting Booth in fifteen minutes at his office." Angela grinned and raised her eyebrows.

"Quickie in an FBI closet? I like it." Brennan rolled her eyes.

"We have a case, Angela. Believe it or not, not everything is about sex.

Angela snorted. " Yeah. If that was true, then my list of previous relationships would be dramatically decreased, sweetie. " Brennan moved to the doorway.

"Goodbye, Angela!" She said loudly. Angela hastened to follow her friend, blocking her way and looking her right in the eyes.

"Please, sweetie. Give me something. Anything. Are you two dating? Have you properly talked? Was it good??"

A smile spread slowly across Brennan's face.

"Goodbye, Angela," She repeated. She slipped past Angela and exited the office.

_**--------- X~x~X---------------**_

Twenty minutes later, she walked into Booth's office. He was reclining in his chair, feet propped up on the desk, as he repeatedly tossed and caught a colourful ball. The sight of him made Brennan's face flush a tinged shade of rose pink, especially when he looked up and his chocolate eyes met hers. He smiled brightly, pulling his legs off of the desk and getting to his feet.

"I'm late. " Brennan said as way of apology. Booth walked past her, shutting the office door and pulling down the blinds.

"I forgive you." Once this was done, once he was sure that they were away from the prying eye of his colleagues, he descended upon her, pulling her to him and leaning down to kiss her. Brennan threaded her arms up around his neck, and fought the urgent desire to get lost in his kiss, battling against how good it felt and how badly unprofessional it was in reality. Her hands, instead of resting in the nape of his neck, hooked into the curve of his collar and tugged him away. He gave her a look of fake hurt, but his eyes were darker than usual, and glistening hungrily as he moved in once again. Brennan moaned, and let the kiss extend further, before once again pulling him away. Booth groaned and hooked his hands around her waist and threw back his head.

"C'mon Brennan, this isn't fair-"

"Remember the rules-" She told him sternly, " No relationship at work. Not a romantic relationship, anyhow. "She spotted the look of disparagement on his face, and sighed. " You _agreed_, Booth."

Booth pulled away slowly and walked back over to his desk. As he sank into his chair, Brennan watched him carefully.

"Yeah, I know, Bones, but you…you just can't put rules on a relationship." Brennan folded her arms silently. "Well then, I guess this relationship just isn't going to work out." Booths head snapped up at Brennan's serious, sombre words, only reassured when he saw the half smile on her face. He exhaled and reluctantly smiled, relaxing back into his seat.

"That's a good one, Bones. Very funny." Brennan was just about to reply, when the door opened suddenly, and a lower agent walked in. He spotted them and smiled sheepishly. When he hurriedly left the room, after collecting the file that he needed, Brennan turned back to Booth and gestured to the door.

"_That_- that is another reason we need to behave _appropriately_ at work."

She sat in the chair opposite him and leaned her head on her hand. " Like I said last night, I would prefer letting us get used to the relationship without outside interference."

Booth nodded, threading his fingers behind his head and leaning back lazily. "Come on, Bones, you make us sound like a couple of horny teenagers. Y'know, I'm not sixteen, I'm not desperate for sex 24-7-"

Brennan arched an eyebrow thoughtfully. "After the last few days…nights especially…I'm going to have to beg to differ." A half-smile crept onto Booth's face, and Brennan caught his intent gaze and glanced down at her lap. She might have bared both her body and heart to him, but it didn't mean she couldn't feel just a little embarrassed when he looked at her that way, and she remembered everything that had happened between them recently with startling clarity.

Brennan cleared her throat and reached across to hand him the file she had brought with her; she inhaled quickly as their hands brushed, as Booth reached over to take it from her. He heard her reaction, and chuckled. He flicked through the file impatiently.

Booth glanced up at her. "This the new Parkman-Roster case?" He asked casually, pulling out a bunch of pictures and slipping the paperclip off them. Brennan watched his face as he sorted quickly through the crime scene photos, wincing loudly as he stumbled over the more gruesome ones.

"Any luck with the remains?"

Brennan switched immediately to Doctor mode. "We've managed to transport the remains of Helena Parkman-Roster to the lab, and we should be able to determine cause and time of death within the next couple of days."

"What about Paul Parkman-Roster?" Booth asked. Brennan indicated to the file.

"We went back to the scene of the crime and travelled out for a five mile radius and we didn't find any signs of him. We did find some tyre tracks though. They seemed fresh, leading right out of the fields and through the forest. They stop at the Hillman Entrance to the park."

Booth collected all the photos together and gathered them back in the file. "So either he left, or he was taken, right?"

Brennan nodded, as Booth passed her back the file. "Looks that way. We can't be sure of anything yet, and we can't assume anything that could affect the outcome of the- what?" Brennan stopped as she noticed Booth silently watching her, and repeated warily, _"What?"_

Booth shook his head suddenly, breaking any spell that seemed to have captured him. "Nothing. It doesn't matter." He sat back down in his seat and reached over for his cell phone. "I'll send another team out to check one last time. I'll put out a recent photo of the husband on the database, just in case any one has seen him since the incident four months ago."

"We'll get the cause and time of death as soon as possible and use the particulates we found on the wife's shirt to try and narrow down the possible places her body could have originally lay, " Brennan contributed, getting to her feet. " If you come by the lab later, we should be able to tell you something."

"Sure." Booth walked round his desk to her side, caught Brennan's hand, and turned her to him. He saw her eyes flicker to the door, and smirked.

"I'll behave, don't worry." He said in a low, mocking voice. She narrowed her eyes at him, as he threaded the fingers of his right hand through hers. He took a step closer.

"Later, I will come to the lab to see what you guys got. But even _later_ than that…" Booth moved his head closer to her ear. Brennan shivered as the warmth of his words, and his breath brushed against her skin. "You. Me. Takeaway. Movie."

Brennan swallowed as something in the pit of her stomach fluttered like a small trapped bird below the surface of her skin.

"Another takeaway?" She murmured, but her voice was surprisingly clear through her distraction. "We're going to get fat."

Brennan heard Booth smile as he brushed his mouth against her upper neck, just below her ear. He, in turn, heard the sharp intake of breath, and his smile widened even more. When he spoke, his voice was low and predatory, with layered meanings and promises.

"I'll keep you in shape, you keep me in shape, huh, Bones?"

Brennan felt her heart skip a beat, and her stomach fluttered once again. _Ignore it, and remain objective, _the Doctor part of her instructed. But she had found that Booth…being with Booth, in every sense, made her a lot less objective and careful. He lowered her defences, he had got past the wall she had built over the span of many years, brick by brick, and now he was through. Now, he could touch her, and talk to her in a way he had never been able to before. Brennan had originally thought that everything would change, and had feared losing the part of Booth than she had slowly become used to, the caring, protective friend who joked with her, teased her, taught her things that she had once dismissed as unimportant, because they didn't necessarily relate to the job. But now, she was realising, she could have both; the Booth she liked and had become used to, and the Booth that she was falling in love with more and more. Including Monday night, it had only been three nights so far ( with the fourth one fast approaching) but any feelings Brennan had urging her to be careful and slow things down were quickly fading away into nothing but whispers in the back of her head that she heard but regarded with nothing but casual acceptance.

Before she could force herself to complain, or attempt to stop him, Booth had moved his mouth to hers, and was kissing her gently. It mirrored their kiss, That Monday Night; starting chaste, and relatively innocent, before transgressing, progressing into something more. The soft kisses were laden with promises of what was yet to come, and the passionate ones were an extended teaser. Booth pushed his fingers down the small of Brennan's back as she slowly opened her mouth to allow him to explore her mouth. Just as she was pulling him closer, he pulled away, taking a step back. Brennan, eyes glazed over with lust, looked so innocently confused that he wanted to take her right there and then on the floor of his office, door unlocked so that anybody could just walk in. It took everything he had in him to walk away from her.

"Remember the rules?" He told her, his voice husky. Brennan nodded numbly, and slowly walked, dazed, to the door, shutting it quietly behind her.


	7. What else could it be?

**Okay! Lots to say this time!**

**Firstly, as usual, I need to say thanks for all of the reviews. The favourites and alerts mean a lot too, but of course reviews mean feedback, which is really important to me- plus all of you guys seem positive and interested which makes me get up and actually write this stuff for you :P**

**Last time I listed all of the people who had reviewed up to that point ( which I will do again next time for any new reviewers since that time) and in my list there was a mysterious number 7- when I was writing that list, being the idiot that I am, I must have deleted the rest off- I am guessing (sorry if I'm wrong- and sorry for missing you off the first time!) was 7.**

**So, new chapter- clearly, I've skipped a little bit- and I have to apologise now if there are any inconsistencies with the two different parts of the story- I did write them at two totally different times, so there may be errors- with spelling too- I checked, a lot, but I suck.**

**Okay ,so that's all. Sorry for the delay between chapters btw, and I hope you all had a good New Year! This chapter ends with a revelation-y cliff-hanger thang, which you'll probably resent, but please keep reading and review if you have any comments/ questions/suggestions!**

**~Enjoy~ **

Brennan lay back on her bed, and stared up at the ceiling. Her mind had long ago drifted away, and her eyes barely saw the pale cream wallpaper above her as she thought. Silence reverberated through her apartment, each room shadowed, the blinds shut. The only sound, the only sign of life in the place, was the echo from the large clock in the living room, ticking rhythmically like the pulsing of a beating heart.

It was not normal for Temperance Brennan to do nothing; even when she had had a lot to think about in the past, she had always managed to do something else meanwhile, whether it was sifting through old human remains to give them an identity, or typing out a new chapter for her latest novel.

But the bones lay back in boxes in the corner of her office, and her laptop was in its case, her story so far untouched. She had barely skimmed through it for a month. Booth was a very distracting person to be around. Every time she settled down to work, he would appear, and her story was quickly forgotten.

Now, she had no excuse; this was the first time in two weeks that Booth hadn't spent every night with Brennan. The last time they hadn't spent the night together, he had had Parker for a few days whilst Rebecca was away. Brennan never liked going round to Booth's place when he had his son; it felt too much like intruding. So, when Booth had told her on Friday night that he had Parker the next week, but made no attempt to invite her, it didn't offend or hurt her, but it seemed odd. She kept remembering a comment he had made shortly after they had began their relationship, as they were lying side by side in her bed.

Booth had sighed, and said quietly, "I would have liked you to get to know Parker." Brennan had looked over at him, and asked him, "Don't you want me to any more?" Booth had kept quiet for a few seconds, then smiled and agreed with her. But this stayed clearly with Brennan, as she wondered whether the two things were connected. It didn't seem right that they had only been dating over a month, and already there seemed to be something he was keeping from her. Brennan was a very literal, and sometimes, tactless person, but she had good instincts, and was definitely not cold hearted; she knew that something was going on.

_Maybe it's Parker? _She thought, _Maybe he doesn't like me? _At first the thought seemed stupid- she had met Parker, they had got on well, and he was a lovely child. There were things about him that atomically reminded Brennan of Booth; he had his father's eyes and his charm smile. He was happy, innocent and cheerful, and refreshing. Over the last few years, Brennan had dealt with the silence of bones, the tension of strained busy relationships, and conflict ( most of which used to come in the form of snappy little arguments with his father -not that they had stopped arguing, of course). A child was a breath of fresh air.

But maybe Parker didn't like her in the context of his fathers girlfriend? Maybe he wanted his parents to get back together? Despite understanding the feeling of wanting both of your parents, together and happy before you, the thought of Rebecca and Booth back together disturbed Brennan. Immediately, she got up, and walked into the bathroom. Turning the shower on full, she undressed quickly, and stepped under the warm blast of water.

This was her problem- everything between the two of them had been going so well that the slightest sign of trouble, even if it might be a figment of her over-active imagination, made her paranoid and worried. Lying around her flat didn't help, either.

**xX~Xx**

"I need to talk to you." Angela looked up at Brennan, as her friend flopped onto a chair opposite her. They were alone, in the lounge, and Angela hadn't seen Brennan for a few days now- she knew that she was being avoided, but it just amused her. The look on Brennan's face, however, did not amuse her- her best friend looked tired and worried. Angela stopped typing, and slowly shut her laptop. Sighing, she stepped over and sat down next to Brennan, who had her face in her hands, elbows leaning on her knees. Angela waited patiently until Brennan looked up wearily.

"I don't know what to do, Ange."

Angela rested her hand comfortingly on Brennan's back. "You can talk to me Bren, really. I know I get way too over-excited in your personal business sometimes, but if you ever need me…" She didn't need to continue; Brennan smiled at Angela, and pushed her hair back off her face. The artist smiled back, and there was a moment of silence as Angela looked down, and inched closer to her friend.

"Is it Booth?" She asked slowly and delicately. Brennan looked at Angela, and rolled her eyes, but Angela's gaze was firm. She nodded with a reluctant sigh.

"Yes, it's Booth." She groaned, leaning back into the cushions behind her. " What about him?"

"Things have…" Brennan exhaled. "Things have changed. With me and Booth."

Angela smiled sympathetically. "Of course things have changed, sweetie- you and Booth are dating now. Dating, as in having sex and, in your case, blushing every time you see him."

Brennan widened her eyes indignantly. " I have _not_ blushed when I have seen Booth!"

Angela laughed. "Every single time, honey, every single time." She grinned mischievously. "I read somewhere that that's an indicator of a really wild sex life."

Brennan gave her friend a look. "This really isn't the best time to be discussing my wild sex life, Angela."

Angela sighed. " Okay- so it clearly has nothing to do with realising that Booth is terrible in bed?"

Brennan blushed. "Angela!"

Her friend waved her hands up in defeat. "Alright! I'm sorry. Instead of me running through all these possible scenarios involving cross-dressing FBI agents and violent gun use and handcuffs in the bedroom department, maybe you should just tell me what's wrong with Booth?"

There was a pause. Angela listened to the sound of the bustling work over the balcony down in the lab, until Brennan spoke.

"I expected things to change, Angela, and they have. At first…at first it was for the better, but now…"

"Now…it isn't?"

"It's been two months Angela, and it's changing again. Maybe-" Brennan breathed deeply, her breath blowing her hair off her face, "Maybe he's changed his mind about us?"

Angela squeezed Brennan's shoulder, and shook her gently with a smile. "Honey- that is never going to happen. Maybe you're just over-thinking this?"

Brennan shook her head. " Have you seen Booth lately?"

"No. He's not been here much-" Angela spotted the look on Brennan's face and hastily added, " But he's been busy, right? With the Paul Parkman-Roster thing, right? I mean, you guys found this guy alive and reunited him with his son, and now it looks like the kid's going to be taken away by his mom's dad. That's just Booth, isn't it? These things affect him."

"But these things affect you too, but you aren't acting any differently."

Angela sighed and looked at her friend. Whilst she was half-tempted to dismiss this as a product of Brennan's paranoid imagination, her friends desperation seemed harshly real, and she just couldn't push it away.

"How do you mean, he's been acting weird?"

"Avoiding me." Brennan began. " Ignoring my calls. I've seen him twice in the last week. Even when I do see him, he's…distant."

"And when did all this start?"

Brennan paused. "I can't be sure. I'm not very good with reading subtle signals. I only noticed all of this a couple of weeks ago."

"About the same time you guys found the Parkman-Roster guy, right?" Angela calculated thoughtfully. She was silent for a second or so, thinking. "Why would that case even bother Booth? A guy running away when he realised his wife had died? Does he have father issues or something?"

"I'm not sure." Brennan lied smoothly; in truth, she knew some information about Booth's upbringing and his relationship with his father, but it had been uttered in an unspoken bond of secrecy, in her apartment, and she felt speaking the words he had spoken quietly to her would be betraying his trust. Besides, Brennan doubted that that was what was bothering Booth- the cases were totally different.

If Angela knew that Brennan was lying, she didn't show any sign. " I'm sorry then, sweetie, but I can't think of anything else. Maybe you should just ask Booth?"

"Ask Booth what?"

Angela turned quickly to see the FBI agent approaching them. Brennan didn't turn, looking down at her hands. Glancing between Angela's expectant face, and Brennan's back, he repeated his question. "Ask me what?"

"Nothing." Brennan said immediately; her voice was calm and clear, but still she didn't turn to look at him. " Just some questions about the Parkman- Roster case."

Booth nodded slowly. Angela watched as his eyes never drifted from Brennan's back, the pale exposed nape of her neck as she leaned forward, contrasting with the dark brown of her hair.

Angela coughed. He looked at her and she raised her eyebrows.

"Oh- I've just stopped to drop off some things on another case…" He trailed off uncertainly, "But, y'know, it can wait-"

Angela stood up suddenly.

"No, it's fine. Brennan was just saying that she needed to get on with some work, and I should be downstairs with Cam helping her on the case. So-" She reached out and pulled Booth towards Brennan, pushing him down onto her recently vacated seat beside her friend. "I'll just leave you two to it." With that, she left quickly, avoiding Booths bemused look, and Brennan's glare.

"Work hard, now!" She called airily back over shoulder.

When she was just about to climb down the stairs, she looked back. Things looked awkward and although she felt a little bad about leaving Brennan on her own to deal with this, she knew it was for the best. Angela couldn't believe the two of them; clearly, they were made for each other, and yet they subconsciously fabricated obstacles that constantly got in the way- even now, when they were dating.

That's what this was, Angela was sure of it; another fabricated obstacle. After all, what _else_ could it be?

**xX~Xx**

Booth eyed Brennan carefully as he laid the file down on the glass coffee table. When he spoke, it was only to try and get rid of the terrible silence that Angela's hasty exit had triggered.

"So, Cullen knows that the Parkman-Roster case is coming to an end, so he's found us another one that he thinks needs looking at. I told him I'd check with you. Is it okay?" She didn't reply. He moved a little closer, and rested his hand on her leg. "Brennan?"

As soon as his hand touched her leg, Brennan had stood, and walked around the other side of the coffee table. She reached over and began to flick through the file. Booth watched her, confused.

"Bones-"

"Tell Cullen that the others and I will start working on it as soon as possible. We just need to tie up the last few strings of this case."

" " _The others and I_?"" Booth repeated, "You mean…_us_? "We"?"

Brennan glanced up at him carelessly. "Sure, if you want to help it's welcome."

Booth looked at her with disbelief. "Of course I want to help! I always help!"

"This week being an exception…" Brennan muttered, leafing through the file. Booth stopped.

"Okay. Rewind- I'm getting a _"Coming-in-halfway-though-the play-and-not knowing-the plot" _feeling here." He told her, getting to his feet. The coffee table stood solidly between them.

"This isn't a game, Booth!" Brennan snapped disapprovingly, shutting the file. Booth held up his hands.

"What the hell is going on here, Bones? I've only been here five minutes and already I've done something wrong-"

Brennan narrowed her eyes at him, and spoke louder. "Don't even talk to me about doing things wrong-"

"What the hell is the matter with you, Brennan?" Booth shouted over her sentence. Brennan stopped immediately. Booth instantly regretted shouting as she continued.

"Don't you think I should be asking you that question?"

"Meaning?"

Brennan stopped and tossed the file onto the table, folding her arms stubbornly. " Meaning that you told me that I should take a risk and date you because things wouldn't change for the worse, and I believed you. And now some part of you clearly regrets that, because you've been avoiding me recently!"

Booth sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He moved around the coffee table until he was standing in front of her, inches apart.

"Brennan." He said softly, and lifted his hand to her face, cupping her cheek. Booth brushed her skin with his thumb reassuringly.

"Temperance." He reached to push her hair over her shoulder. "I don't regret…anything. Any part of this. " He spoke carefully. "Any…reason I might have been acting weird lately…has nothing to do with you."

"Shouldn't it, though? Why don't I have a right to know what is wrong? You're avoiding me, I barely see you, and when I do, you're quiet and don't concentrate on anything other than the secret you don't want to tell me."

"I do-" Booth stopped with a deep exhalation. "Brennan, maybe we should go to your office?"

Brennan searched his face quickly.

"It makes no sense for us to go somewhere else Booth, for you to just tell me something. It doesn't really matter where you tell me- I won't react differently if you tell me somewhere else-"

"I just thought you might want to go somewhere more private-"

"This _is_ private, Booth. You're stalling. _Just tell me_."

Booth looked right into Brennan's beautiful eyes, caressed her skin before pulling away and pulling his hands down over his face.

"_Booth_-" Brennan said quietly and firmly. Booth looked up at her, his eyes bright.

"I'm leaving."


	8. What You’ve Always Wanted

**Why hello!**

**I know I just updated earlier today but I saw the reviews and all the people who have reviewed so far were really nice, if not a little pissed at my tiny little cliff-hanger! Then I saw a review by **_**uglylilduckie202**_** asking me to update even if it was just a sentence saying where he's leaving to- so I did one step better and wrote a chapter! ( Albeit a kind of short and error-ridden chapter, sorry about that).**

**Another thing- sorry if there are any inconsistencies between chapters! You might be able to tell that I'm kind of young as I have zero patience with that kind of stuff. Or not. You can guess, if you really want. ****:P**

**Because this is just a quick chapter, I'm not going to list everyone who took the time to review on the other chapter like I said I would- I am going to embarrass you all with a biiiggggg list next time. Just to reply to comments people have made so far on Chapter 7, as I am about to publish this new chapter-**

**Browner864- **_**Lol Any recommendations on how I should punish him? I'm not suggesting character death but something drastic :P From your review, I think you might have guessed right why he is leaving- damn you!**_

**BoothanddBrennan- **_**Thank you! **_

**Uglylilduckie202- **_**Happy now? :P**_

**hrhdana- **_**I am a cliff-hanger-bitch!**_

**Nikstarr- **_**Lol **__**Liking your profile picture btw **_

**VENZwife- **_**I never joke when cliffhanger thangs are involved! :P**_

**Mustanggirlz07**_**- Thank you! Hope this chapter doesn't make you change your mind!**_

**EmilyBonesDavidBooth**_**- Well, I've updated…don't know if I'd consider it being better now or not….because I'm EVIL!!!**_

**vacruz2- **_**Thank you! **_

**NatesMama- **_**Nothing wrong with getting caught up! In my more obsessed days, I almost kind of threatened somebody to update…but that was a long time ago. I'm better now. Sort of.**_

**Khalek-aeryn**_**- Loving the cliff-hanger too, I see :P**_

**~Enjoy!~**

There was a silence that reverberated between the two of them. It seemed to last for an age. Nothing in those few seconds were said; Booth stood still as his words sank in.

"You're…leaving?" She repeated slowly. Booth covered his cheeks with his open palms and nodded. He bit his lip.

The devastation fell like a drop of blood in a bowl of milk through Brennan's thoughts and she couldn't stop it from spreading. Her face still bore the same blank, confused expression, but as usual, Booth could see into her eyes, see her frantic thoughts as she tried to process this bombshell.

"Yeah, Bones, I am." Booth spoke quietly, his voice low and soft. He wondered if Brennan even heard him at first. She stood, less than a metre away from him, arms hanging limply by her side. Booth waited nervously.

He had expected her reaction to be terrible; she had been right, he _had_ tried to put off seeing her. He had tried to tell himself this was for her, to ease the news upon her, but clearly that was a lie. It had been for selfish reasons, for himself- yes, he had cared about her being hurt, but he just couldn't bring himself to say the words to her. Booth had expected fury, shouted words, and accusations, as she tried to rationalize things. A small part of him had been dreading that she would cry.

But now, the words having left his mouth, he realized just how wrong he was. He had been expecting emotion, forgetting the one most important thing about Brennan.

Brennan had walls; Booth had toiled long and hard for years, getting to know and understand her, confiding in her and earning her trust. Now, with a couple of simple words, everything had come crashing down, and Brennan's walls had slid right back up, taller and stronger than ever.

"End of the month, I think." He said, just wanting to get rid of the silence. Brennan was looking in his direction, but her eyes were focussed on a point just beside his head, avoiding his eyes. There was a small frown of confusion on her face, that even years of self-control couldn't hide. The doctor folded her arms and sank down into a seat behind her.

Booth knew better than trying to sit beside her. Instead, he sat opposite her, leaning forward and speaking in a soft, but urgent whisper.

"I've spoken to Cullen, and… he's, erm, going to leave my position open- unless you want to go out on cases-?"

Brennan coughed. "No, no- I think I'd prefer to just go back to how things were before." _Before you_. The words hung in the air unspoken. Her voice sounded calm and calculating, but she was barely aware that the sentence left her mouth.

Booth paused, and nodded. Brennan nodded back slowly, and looked down at her hands in her lap.

Booth watched her fiddling fingers, her blank face, and her total lack of words. He wondered if he preferred it like this; the clear, confused silence, rather than the anger and the firing of questions.

He didn't. He would take Bones fighting back, rather than just giving in any day. And that's what it seemed like Brennan was doing- giving in. Giving up.

Booth wordlessly reached over and took her hands in his. She didn't pull away. Brennan looked up at him. Booth was startled by how…normal she looked. He recognised this look; the head tilted slightly to the side, her eyes wider than usual, her mouth raised in what look like a small half smile. This was her Accepting look, he had seen it a hundred times. She was covering just how she really felt with her walls.

In that second Booth hated himself for doing this to her.

"If there was any other way, Temperance…" He trailed off. Brennan nodded slightly.

"Is it work?" Brennan asked suddenly. Booth's eyes glanced up from where they had lay on his hands wrapped around hers, and stared into her eyes.

"Do you really think I would leave if it had anything to do with work?" He asked, a note of amused disbelief in his tone. Brennan didn't respond. Booth squeezed her hands comfortingly.

"Rebecca's moving to France." Brennan looked surprised.

"France?"

"Yeah, France- Europe-France. She's got family there, and now she's got this new guy…" He sighed. "I've got family there too, distant family. But…_Parker_…If I go, I can live near them, and be a bigger part of his life-."

Brennan smiled sadly. "That's what you've always wanted."

Booth nodded.

"How long have you-?"

"A couple of months or so." He told her, and his hold on her hands tightened before he next spoke. "Rebecca told me the day I came to your office…"

Realisation dawned over Brennan. "Oh." She said simply and quietly. Booth sighed deeply.

"That had nothing to do with why I came to see you that night-"

"Of course not." Brennan said bitterly. Booth sighed deeply again, as Brennan shifted. She looked down at their hands uncomfortably, but didn't pull away- or _couldn't,_ as Booth's hold was strong. He rubbed his thumb over her pale skin.

"Brennan," He began slowly, "If there was any other way for this to happen, I'd take it. But there isn't. And believe me, I've gone over every possible solution- I thought about weekend visits, long holidays- but it wouldn't be the same. I'd have to travel and work overtime, and…I'd see less of him than I do now, right?"

"Yes." Brennan agreed numbly. Booth nodded at her in appreciation for her response. "Yes, you would see less of him."

_And this way you'll see much less of me instead_. The words lingered in her mouth- she could taste their sad, hollow bitterness, wondering what would happen if she said them, but she couldn't. Just thinking it seemed selfish enough. She _knew_ Parker. He wasn't some insignificant child, he was _Booth's_ child. And Brennan knew Booth. The situation was hard enough for him as it was, having Parker way less than he would prefer, because of Rebecca. And if moving to France with her new partner made her happier for Booth to move near to them and spend more time with their son, who was she to argue?

What right did she have to complain?

"How long will you be gone for?"

"I don't know. Rebecca's renting out her apartment, and she says they'll give it about a year, then come back. If they like it, they might go back out for longer."

"A year?" Brennan swallowed, looking down at her hands. "Can she even-?"

"Yeah." Booth nodded, before she even finished her sentence. "Yeah, Bones. It's not like she's forbidding me from seeing Parker. If anything, she's encouraging me to come."

Brennan couldn't help but arch her eyebrows in sarcastic disbelief. Booth chuckled. " I know. But, y'know, whether she's doing it for selfish reasons, or for my benefit, it's…it's something I can't let pass me by."

"I understand." Brennan said simply. Booth never moved his eyes from his intent gaze on her face. Brennan knew he was searching her voice and her eyes for any sign of how she really felt, of any feelings she might be keeping hidden from him. She was determined not to let him see any weakness, not any more. She kept her face blank, but soft, as if she fully, with all her heart, meant the crap that was automatically falling out of her mouth. " I'm glad for you. I mean, this way you'll get to see your son grow up, right? I know that's what you want more than anything."

Booth let Brennan's light words sink in before nodding. "Yeah." He said quietly. " You're right." Booth gave her a half smile. "As always."

Brennan forced herself to give Booth a small smile in return. She gently pulled her hands out of his, and quickly began to collect up the papers that had slipped out of the case file. She stood, with the file tucked underneath one arm and glanced at Booth as he too got to his feet.

"Tell Cullen that we'll start on this ASAP. I just need to go and examine some marks we found on the wife this afternoon and I'll look at this more after." Brennan told him. Before she could turn to walk away, he caught her arm, and pulled her closer. Brennan didn't speak. He pushed his fingers through her hair, and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"I'm sorry." She heard him say quietly. "You know how much I love you, Temperance." Hearing her first name come from his lips now felt embarrassing and wrong- how could it all have changed so quickly? She wondered. Booth didn't move his lips from her skin. He trailed them down, so that he was whispering into her ear. Brennan suppressed a shiver as she felt his warm breath on her flesh. " We need to talk about.. This…and what it means for us. Maybe we could have dinner tonight?" Brennan stiffened slightly, and pulled away a little.

"I don't know, Booth. I really should get the Parkman-Roster case finished, and start on this new one." Booth opened his mouth to speak, just as his cell rang loudly from his pocket. Sighing, he pulled his phone out and opened it, taking the call. Brennan took this distraction as an opportunity to walk quickly off in the opposite direction, her whole body numb whilst her legs carried her away. By the time Booth had finished the call, it was too late; she was already gone.


	9. Ignoring the Truth

**Hello earthlings!**

**Big apologies for the update delay- it's been a bit of a hectic time, the last couple of weeks, but I have been planning how the story is going to go ( everybody like angst?) and I have been reading all of your lovely reviews. The last chapter got a really good response, so I feel bad about posting a bit of a filler chapter in here, but it was necessary to get…well, just read on. I promise the next chapter will be longer- I already know what is going to happen but nothing is set in stone yet, so if you have any ideas, feel free to tell me. **

**Once again, thanks for all your reviews! **

**xx**

"Brennan, this isn't normal for you." Brennan looked up at Angela with a weary sigh. She pushed her hair off her tired face.

"Angela, please. I'm trying to work."

Her friend sighed impatiently.

"That is exactly my point, sweetie! You shouldn't be working! I know you like to work through your pain, but-"

"Work through my pain?" Brennan repeated, her voice amused and ever so slightly incredulous.

Angela moved closer to her friend and leaned over her desk. "Honey. Booth is _leaving_. He's leaving his job, he's leaving all of us…he's leaving _you_."

Brennan tilted her head to the side as she scanned through her work. She glanced carelessly up at Angela. "Well, he isn't leaving Parker."

Angela exhaled loudly in disbelief. "That's all you can say? _Really_?"

Brennan dropped her hands down onto the wooden surface of her desk with a dull thump in exasperation. "Angela, please, just try and be realistic. What am I supposed to do? It would be…irrational for me to try and do something. Anyway, what would you suggest I do?"

"Something, sweetie, anything!"

Brennan rolled her eyes. "You're being very vague, Ange."

"Look. You've just found out that the love of your life is moving away-"

"I would hardly call Booth the love of my life, Angela. It's impossible to negate rules saying that each individual has one single person out there that they can be happy with; they even go as far as to put a title on it-"

Angela pressed the palms of her hands together slowly. "Brennan!" Brennan stopped and looked suddenly up at Angela, broken from her reverie of rambling. "What, Angela?" Her hands were lingering over the computer keys, hesitating with the tension; Angela's narrowed eyes scanned over her pale fingers. She knew that her friend was waiting to continue her work, typing away as she had been almost non-stop for the last week, ever since she had discovered that Booth was leaving for France. The end of the month was fast approaching and Angela knew for a fact that, since Booth had revealed his upcoming departure, Brennan hadn't spoken to him at all. As much as Angela wanted to do the best friend thing, and resent and hate Booth enough for the both of them (which admittedly, she did, and frequently) Angela had to grudgingly confess that Booth was, at least, trying. Angela herself had lost count of the number of calls she had been force to answer, with his urgent pleas. They varied in desperation; they had started off for a while with Booth calm, and reasonable. Angela knew that at this stage, he was trying to deny to himself the fact that anything was wrong between the two of them. This had rapidly transgressed into the style of the last call Angela had received. Booth had sounded worried and agitated, more so than she had ever heard him sound before. He hadn't admitted any of this, trying to keep the topic "casual" ( as if, in these situations, this could be achieved!) but Angela could tell that he was really growing concerned that he would have to leave in two weeks time without even talking to Brennan. And Angela, as pissed off she was with Booth, hadn't shouted his testicles off as she had originally promised herself when she had learnt the news- she was angry with him, and she had all too much experience with how stubborn her best friend was, but she was determined to get the two of them in a room together. Maybe then Brennan would stop being so calm and in control about the whole thing and….well, Angela didn't really know what the ideal outcome of Brennan and Booth talking to each other was. Objectively, it would be to get Brennan to tell Booth how she really felt, instead of just pretending that she was happy for him.

"Angela?" Angela snapped out of her reverie at her friend puzzled voice, the expectant expression on her face. She realized Brennan was waiting for an answer to something, but for the life of her she couldn't remember what it was.

"Huh? Oh sweetie…look, forget I said anything." Brennan rolled her eyes, but returned back to her work a few moments later, satisfied. Angela remained silent, fiddling with the beads on her gleaming necklace, thinking. Brennan became absorbed once again in her own world of novel writing. When her friend spoke, Brennan gave a small start

"Ok, I'm going to go…let you get on with your work-"

"Thank you, Angela." Brennan said distractedly.

"- If….you meet me after work."

Brennan stopped typing with a groan and her hands flopped down into the keyboard. "Ange! I'm sorry but I have a really important deadline for the sixth chapter due this weekend, so I really should get on with it-"

Angela folded her arms stubbornly and arched an eyebrow. "Honey. You have been non-stop working ever since you found out that Booth is leaving. Every time I come in to see you, you're working away, every time you don't have a case, and half the night too. A night off, that's all I'm asking. You, me, some high budget science-y film that you can mock for its inaccuracies…" Angela added with a grin. "Cake, sweetie. _Chocolate_."

Brennan looked suspicious but her face broke into a reluctant smile.

"We won't have to talk about Booth, will we?"

"Absolutely not." Angela made the action of a cross, her face solemn. "Just meet me down in the basement at 6, okay?"

"The basement? Why would I meet you in the basement, Angela?"

Angela rolled her eyes. "You are looking at the person who has been chosen to go through the archives and date everything going on exhibit. Lucky me."

Brennan nodded enthusiastically, taking her friend seriously. "You are lucky, Ange. It's a fascinating display of work. Some of the pieces are incredible."

Angela grimaced. "Doesn't make it any less boring, sweetie. " She drawled, before turning to leave. "6 O'clock, Bren. Don't be late."

As soon as she had left Brennan's office, Angela practically ran up to the lounge, and sank onto a chair, pulling out her cell. She pressed a button, scrolled through her contacts and dialled Booth's number.

Okay, so she had lied- she had no intention of spending the night with Brennan. That was going to be Booth's job. Only of course, Brennan couldn't know that, or she wouldn't turn up; Angela hoped her friend hadn't been too suspicious. Angela had no intentions of telling Booth either, for the simple reason that this was a very random, instinctive plan, there was no saying that it would go perfectly. She didn't want to build the poor guy's hopes up; he was going to have a hard enough time as it was.

"Hello?"

"Booth! Hi! It's me."

"Angela?" Booth sounded alarmed, and she heard a thump. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine here. " Angela said. She heard another bang. "What's going on there?"

"I'm just…packing. " Booth told her quietly and uncomfortably.

"Wow. You're really going. " Angela noted simply. " It doesn't seem real."

"For me either." Booth exhaled wearily. "Look, Angela, I…I know things are rough for Brennan right now, and I know it's all my fault…but I really can't go without talking to her."

"When do you leave?" Angela asked.

"Two weeks tomorrow." Angela bit her lip. She was now sure that she was doing the right thing.

"Look, sweetie, what are you doing tonight? Do you think that you could come over the lab so we could talk?"

"Sure. Sure! " Booth said quickly, "Where? When?"

"6 O'clock? In the basement, where all the exhibits are?"

"The basement?"

"I'm working in there, it's…it's a long story. Can you be there?"

"Of course."

"Angela?" Booth called. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and shivered; the basement wasn't the warmest place in the lab. He didn't entirely understand why he was meeting Angela here, but there was no way he was about to miss up an opportunity to try and fix things. He couldn't fool himself anymore. Things between himself and Brennan were far, far away from okay. And he had to sort it.

He turned another corner, past a row of sarcophagi, and tall rows of boxes that obscured his view of the whole huge room.

"Angela! It's me!" He shouted loudly. There was no response. Suddenly, he heard footsteps, and a voice came from behind him.

"Booth?"

Booth turned round, expecting to see the half-crazy artist he was supposed to be meeting. Instead, his eyes grew wider as they fell on the puzzled face of Brennan.

"Brennan." He greeted her simply, his hands burrowing deeper into his pocket. She looked tired, but beautiful as ever. Her long hair was pulled back into a messy bun, her blue lab coat over one arm, her bag over the other.

"I didn't know you were going to be here, Booth." She said stiffly. " I'm actually supposed to be meeting…._Angela_." She sighed as she realised.

The same thoughts had already passed through Booth's head a few seconds earlier.

"I think we've been set up, Bones." He told her sheepishly. Brennan rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to kill her." She growled, and stalked in the opposite direction. After a moment of hesitation Booth followed her quickly. He caught up with her as she reached the large glass doors. Brennan was pressing the buttons angrily, again and again. There was no reaction.

"The door's locked from the main office." Brennan said slowly. She turned to Booth and spoke again. "We've been locked in."

Booth smirked. " I got it, Bones, thanks." He pushed his hands through his hair as Brennan sank down onto the hard concrete floor. Booth was surprised at how quickly she had given up, at how tired she seemed. Slowly and unsurely, he moved over and tentatively sat down next to her. He left a gap between them. Brennan shot him a nervous, but not necessarily disapproving look, as he stretched out his legs and let his hands fall into his lap.

"So." He began. "What d'you think her plan is? We stay here imprisoned for long enough and start talking to each other?"

Brennan sniffed. "I don't see how this is at all necessary, Booth. There's nothing we need to talk about anyway."

Booth shot her an incredulous look. "Hold on a second, did you really just say that?" Brennan blinked innocently. Booth groaned and covered his face with his hands.

"I don't believe you."

"Booth, there's no need to get angry-"

"I am not angry!" Booth said angrily. He stopped and breathed. " I'm not angry, I'm…I'm calm and I….don't understand you at all."

"I know." Brennan said quietly, and Booth groaned again.

"Why do you have to make things so difficult all the time?"

Brennan did a double- take. "Me? I make things difficult?" She turned to stare at the boxes a few metres away and next spoke quietly. "I'm not the one moving to France."

Booth pounced on her words, pointing his finger at her as he spoke quickly. "See? You say that you're okay with it, and I know you're not, but you avoid me, you don't give me a chance to explain it more, and now you're blaming it on me!"

"You're being unfair Booth!" Brennan exclaimed, hurt.

"And y'know what? You're being evasive. I guess we're even."

"I am fine with you leaving Booth. It's something you have to do, I know that. You should know that, too."

Booth exhaled deeply. "How can I know that you're okay with me leaving when I haven't spoken to you since I told you?!"

"We're talking now."

"No, we're arguing now, there's a difference."

"We are _discussing_, Booth, not arguing. It's not a big deal."

Booth snorted. He spoke in a mock-whisper. "Really? It isn't a big deal, but it takes Angela locking us in a basement for us to have a crap excuse of a conversation? Yeah, Bones- things are absolutely fine between us."

"What do you want me to say, Booth?" Brennan exclaimed, exasperated. "You want to know how I feel about your news and I'm told you the truth. I can't tell you any more."

"I want you to tell me the truth." Booth replied, keeping his voice calm. "You say that there isn't anything more for you tell me, when I know there probably is a whole lot of stuff that you could tell me, but won't."

Brennan felt a pinch of annoyance at how well Booth thought he knew her, and it leaked into her words. "Think what you want, Booth. It doesn't bother me."

Booth shot her an sideways glance. "Course not. " He stopped. Brennan knew he wasn't finished; sure enough, a few seconds later, she was proved right. "Because, y'know, you telling me how you really feel would go against all of your rules."

Brennan frowned. "I do not have rules, Booth."

Booth smirked again, simply to annoy her (of course this wasn't really what he felt like doing.) "Think what you want, Bones. It doesn't bother me."

There was an awkward silence. Brennan heard Booth sigh loudly, and watched discreetly as he pushed his fingers through his hair. She waited for him to continue, but it seemed like the fight was gone from him, leaving his shoulders tense, his skin pale. She suppressed the sudden urge to comfort him, to rest her hand on the back of his neck, or to hold his hand which was curled up in a fist beside his leg. Instead the only movement she made was to shift herself away from him slightly. He stiffened as he heard her move but didn't look at up.. Brennan exhaled deeply. It was going to be a long night.


	10. A Walk, A Phone Call and an Apology

**Many apologies for the update delay but I promise (fingers crossed!) that it won't happen again.**

**So this is just a quick update because I was feeling very guilty after abandoning the story after all of your responses, all of which are greatly appreciated. **

**Especially-**

**_Quonoeye_**

**_NatesMama_**

**_Mustanggirlz07_**

**_Missbrat155_**

**_BoothanddBrennan_**

**_Iheartbooth_**

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**-Without them actually taking the time to review, you wouldn't be getting another chapter so big thanks :)**

**Just an added note- this story is in three parts- the beginning, the flashback, and the end. Each one was written at a very different time, so apologies for any errors I've missed, it really isn't on purpose, and I've checked through about eight times so here's hoping it's error free!**

**Waiting to see who my 100****th**** viewer is…**

**Enjoy!**

Brennan walked home to her apartment. She didn't know how long it took her; it could have been two hours or ten, for all she was concerned. Had she been in her normal state, then she would have remembered what time she had left, and compared it to what time she had arrived home. Calculations, carefully deducing like she usually did was simply not an option right now.

Brennan could have called a cab, but her cell phone lay untouched in her pocket. If she had took a cab home, she would have been there in less than an hour, and just thinking about that, though tempting, seemed wrong; she needed to think, she needed to function, and if the thought of getting home independently, of having no other option than to walk, helped her work even a little bit through the turmoil in her head, then it was worth it.

When Brennan arrived home, she unlocked the door, and walked slowly into the kitchen. She left all the lights off, and paused as her eyes adjusted to the dark. With a dull soft thump, her bag fell down her stiff arm to the ground. Ignoring it, Brennan moved over to refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of wine. She took a glass from the cupboard, filled it with wine, and sat at the table.

As the lights from the building opposites, and the cars driving by flashed far down below, casting meagre shadows through the window, Brennan's face was devoid of any emotion. She downed her drink in a couple of gulps. Her hand trembled ever so slightly as she reached over to pour herself another glass.

As soon as the bottle was finished, she got unsteadily to her feet, and wavered there for a second or so. Ignoring the glass, the empty wine bottle, the dark shadow on the floor that she knew was her bag, she walked slowly to her bedroom. Going through the motions, she changed from her work clothes into a tank top and cotton shorts. She didn't even feel embarrassed when she realised that she had walked all the way home still wearing her dark blue lab coat. Silently, still swathed in the darkness of the late night air, she folded herself up between her ice cold sheets, closed her eyes, and tried to fall into slumber.

_Brennan looked over at Booth, and immediately felt guilty at moving away a few minutes earlier. How had things got so bad between the two of them that a simple action like that could clearly make him so annoyed?_

"_Booth." She began. He didn't move. "You have to go to France to be with Parker, you know that. And I know that. It's not something that I'm particularly thrilled with but I think I've accepted it."_

_Booth spoke into his hands. "If you really were okay with it, Bones, if you __**really **__weren't angry, then you wouldn't have been avoiding me- I mean, that makes sense, right?"_

_Brennan slumped back against the wall. "I'm not angry with you. If anything…" She sighed. "If anything, I'm angry with me."_

_Now Booth looked up. One hand came up to push his fingers automatically through his hair, and he frowned. "Wh-what? Angry at yourself? Seriously, Bones?" He exhaled exaggeratedly. "And there was me thinking __**I'd**__ done something wrong. So according to you I've been in the right all along?" He did another fake exhalation. "__**Phew**__! Good to know."_

_Brennan threw the man next to her a look, head tilted, eyes widened in exasperation. "Please, don't joke, Booth, I'm being very serious here." Booth nodded, and Brennan, satisfied, continued quietly, awkwardly and slowly. "I'm angry with myself…because I'm not angry with you." There was a pause. "Do you see what I mean?"_

_Booth opened his mouth immediately, but managed to restrain himself from replying too sarcastically. "Not really, Bones."_

_Brennan sighed. This really wasn't her thing- talking about her feelings so openly. Usually it made it easier if it was Booth, or Angela she was talking with; she doubted that she would ever feel comfortable talking about Booth leaving. The very thought turned her stomach. _

"_I'm not angry with you Booth. I know that you aren't going for an inadequate reason, I understand that Parker means the world to you-"_

"_There are other things that mean the world to me, Temperance. Other people-"_

" _And I know that you might not want to go, if Parker wasn't going too-"_

"_If Parker wasn't leaving, I wouldn't even think about going-!"_

"_Booth!" Brennan said. Booth flopped back even further into the wall, weary. Every time, every single time he tried to speak, tried to cause a disturbance in her perfect little explanation, she smoothed it over, like it never happened. His words were footprints in the sand, and she was the waves, the tide coming in and out, again and again, washing away his voice. "Can you just- let me speak- please?" Silence, taken as a positive reply. "I'm angry because I'm not angry at you. Because I can't be angry with you. I __**know**__ Parker, and I know that you wouldn't be happy if you weren't with him." His silence, the fact that Booth was giving her a chance to explain, spurred her on. _

_"So I'm not angry with you because I know why you're going. And I try to be rational, because you're going and I'm okay with it. But then…" Brennan slowed down, and leaned back into the wall, talking more to herself now than Booth. _

_Her words, however, had properly captured Booth's full interest. "But then I think about you actually not being here, not being able to see you…like the last week or so, but over and over and over again. I know why you're going, and it annoys me that I understand that. I wish I could be somebody who didn't understand, who could make a fuss, and beg you to stay, but I'm not. I want you here with me. But you can't stay."_

_Brennan stopped, and stared ahead in a daze, as her words evaporated into the air and hung heavy there. Booth, never moving his eyes from her face, reached down and took her hand. Brennan's eyes focused on her smaller, pale hand, and his fingers, curled around hers, his thumb running across her soft skin. _

_The tension was hanging thick in the air now. Brennan squeezed his hand back. In a second, their eyes met, pausing as they stared at each other. In a single moment, Brennan was thinking about how much she wanted to kiss Booth; a single moment later, she was. As soon as their lips tentatively met, the touch changed instantly from soft and innocent to passionate. Hands frantically moved, touching skin, and hair, and tugging urgently at their layers of clothes._

Brennan woke suddenly, beads of sweat trailing down her forehead. Her skin was clammy, and every inch of her body was flushed and shaking. Brennan felt boiling, but when she lifted her trembling hand up to her face, her skin was cold, and wet with tears, as well as sweat. She could taste the salt droplets gliding down her pale cheeks, and she brushed them away hurriedly. Everything seemed wrong; she felt feverish, but she was cold. Her hands fumbled as she threw the covers away from her, exposing her bare legs. She leaned back into her pillow, her hair sticking annoyingly to the back of he neck, and her face; she pushed it away carelessly and climbed slowly out of the bed.

Brennan shivered as her feet made contact with the soft carpet. She padded across the room but stopped abruptly when she caught her reflection in the full length mirror on the back of the closet door. The room was bathed in darkness, but she could still see enough of herself, wearing small cotton shorts and a flimsy grey tank top. Her hair was a mess, and though it looked like she had a black eye, she knew it was her smudged makeup. Squinting through the darkness, Brennan stood, silently, and looked at herself. She slowly moved her hand up to the necklace around her neck, the metal cool against her fingers, as she fingered the simple but beautiful pendant. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't. Part of her even wanted to rip it from her neck, and throw it to the floor; the very thought of actually doing so made her recoil, repulsed at herself as new waves of guilt flooded over her. Brennan rushed to the bathroom, and retched over the toilet, the feelings of nausea refusing to leave her body. Shutting her eyes, she leaned back wearily against the cool tiles on the wall.

Part of her was aware that she was crying. The rest of her was remembering, images and snippets of conversation. She remembered all those months ago, Booth turning up at her office, clearly upset. That was the real start of it, the trigger to all of the events that had followed. A more recent wave of memories; spending the night in the lab basement with Booth, the very thing that had just caused her to awake so abruptly, so painfully ( was that really just two weeks ago??)- Angela, pleading with her constantly- Booth's face, blank, eyes wide at the doorway to her apartment- then the cab ride, the horrible, panicked cab ride-

Brennan got to her feet once again, and moved through the shadowed apartment like a ghost, her pale skin ethereal and glowing. She felt for the phone on the cabinet, and dialled the number, a task she could have done asleep.

The phone on the other side rang and rang. She knew it wouldn't be answered but it still caused her eyes to prick when she heard the automatic voice asking her to leave a message.

Brennan swallowed.

"Booth. I'm sorry."

She paused, and placed the phone back onto the receiver.


	11. Just Too Late

**New chapter! Big thanks to everyone who has responded to the last one especially **_BoothanddBrennan_** and **_cheese head-451_**-your flattery is greatly appreciated ;) **

**Now PLEASE understand that this is just a catch up chapter, getting the story up to date and everything- it was not done in a great deal of time so there might be spelling errors or inconsistencies but I have checked and fingers crossed!**

**Reviews are appreciated ;) I've also started replying to reviews, so if you have any questions feel free to include them- I've decided to do a poll to let you all decide how the story is going to go, but I need some suggestions for people to vote on first- please offer ideas if you have them. No pressure. It's just their fate is in your hands. Do you want Booth to die tragically?? DO YOU???**

**Okay.I'm calm.**

**Please show support that I spent three hours doing this instead of an essay.**

**That my friend, is dedication.**

**Enjoy!**

_Brennan's fingers fumbled annoyingly as she tried to fasten up her shirt as quickly as possible. As she struggled, she hugged the curtains of the shirt closer to her body, in an attempt to shield herself._

_And attempt to shield herself from whom?_

_That would be the half naked guy sat beside her, calmly looping his belt into place. Brennan shot a small glance his way, against any small will she might have had, at the shifting muscles in his back. Booth reached over for his shirt, pulling it on simply; Brennan envied how steady his hands were, how he barely fumbled, how his fingers didn't even slip once. How was he so calm when she was…like this? It made Brennan feel angry just being near to him. She felt the uncomfortable, regretting, dirty feeling crawl up over her skin, and with a loud sigh, she got to her feet, leaning down to pull her boot on properly. Booth looked up at her in surprise as she hurriedly tugged her jacket on, and hesitated for a moment. She didn't really know how this worked out now; sure, she felt annoyed at herself, and at him. What was she actually supposed to do now? Hang around, maybe, and wait for him to speak, or say something first? What should she say? "Bye?" Followed by a hasty exit?_

_Damn. Not that easy. Booth was already getting to his feet, fully clothed, except for his jacket which was over his arm. His hair was tousled and he looked pale, but innocently young and happy. Was it wrong he looked so happy? Why did he look so happy?_

"_Booth-" Brennan began but before she could speak, his lips were softly pressed against her slightly parted mouth, and his hand was cupped carefully on her porcelain cheek, like she was a delicate piece of glass. Brennan refused to allow herself to sink into the kiss like she usually would have; besides it lasted only a few seconds or so. She tried to use this scarce precious time to control the guilt brewing in her stomach, because deep down, some small part of her knew what was coming. She had known ever since she had seen the innocent happiness on his beautiful face, she had seen the hope in his eyes, and she knew what she had to do. His hopes were false- he hadn't specified them, but she knew what they would be. _

_He pulled away and revelled for a second or two, barely a few inches away from her face, a half smile on his own face. Brennan frowned, and slowly pushed him away. _

"_Booth-"_

"_Come with me." Brennan recoiled in shock. Booth barely noticed. "Come with me. Take a year off, and…come with me."_

"_What?"_

"_I know your work is important, but, there's- there's got to be another lab in France that you can work with, and I know it'll take some time to adjust to all of it, but I think we could make it-"_

"_No." Brennan cut in bluntly. She watched the smile slip immediately from Booth's face and kept her voice smooth as she continued. "It won't work. We have barely been dating- properly dating- for a couple of months-"_

"_But we've been working together for years-"_

"_Working together." Brennan emphasized. "As friends. Close friends. Best friends, even, but…friends Booth. Just friends. " She paused. "I'm sorry to be blunt but I think you need to face up to things."_

_Booth's arms were limp by his side. He couldn't even show how agitated he was by running his hands through his hair. He was silent and still._

"_But we both-"_

"_Said things in the heat of the moment." Brennan finished for him. She looked down at her hands. "At the end of the day, Booth, looking at the past few months objectively…I think we're better just being friends."_

"_Bullshit." Booth responded immediately. Brennan felt both relieved he was fighting back instead of simply looking distressed, but also weak with the knowledge that this wasn't going to be as simple as she had hoped._

"_That is just bullshit. Complete bullshit, Brennan, and you know it. And I know it too, and I know how you feel. " He stopped abruptly. "And you should know that there's no way in hell I'm going to let that slide. "_

"_Well I guess you're going to have to." Brennan said quietly. "I'm sorry Booth. I won't be coming to France with you-" She exhaled with a bitter smile- " I'm sorry but I can't even consider coming to France with you. I'll miss you, and I hope we can work together when you get back." Brennan looked up at the high ceiling. " But I can't give up everything." Brennan averted her eyes from Booth's face and, very slowly began to walk away._

_She hadn't gone far when she felt his hand on her arm. She gritted her teeth and resisted his grip, but he had no intentions of turning her around. Instead, she felt his cool, gentle fingers moving her hair away from her neck. He threaded something around her neck, and clicked something at the nape of her neck. Suddenly, he was gone. Brennan looked down and her hands moved up to the slight weight on her shirt. It was his St Christopher medallion, around her neck. Brennan sighed and looked around but there was no sight of him. He was already gone._

"_Booth?"_

_Booth sighed._

"_Ange. It's me."_

_Angela heard the weariness in his voice and her stomach tightened. Clearly it hadn't gone well._

"_She didn't listen to you?" There was silence. "Oh God, I'm sorry Booth. I guess I should have warned you what was coming."_

"_Instead of locking us overnight in the basement?" Booth said, a tinge of amusement in his voice. Angela half smiled, half winced._

"_I'm sorry sweetie, I thought-" She stopped. "Well, I thought you'd talk, to be honest. I really thought you'd get through to her."_

_She heard Booth sigh loudly. " We did talk. She made it clear that she wouldn't even consider coming with me-"_

"_Whoa, hang on a second- you asked her to go with you?" Angela stated loudly. There was a pause from Booth, confirming this. "What did you say? What did Bren say?"_

_Another loud sigh from Booth. "Well, she didn't say yes, Angela."_

_Angela bit her lip. "God I'm sorry Booth. I really don't know what to say- and yeah, it was me that just said that."_

_Booth gave a small smile but it soon fell from his face. "I've done everything I can think of Angela, but…she's made it pretty clear."_

"_But you know how she feels about you-!"_

"_Yeah, I know. I know, you know, she's the only person that is refusing to admit that we ever should have been anything other than friends."_

"_She said that?"_

"_Basically." Booth let his words sink in. "Any more plans?"_

"_Booth-"Angela began weakly._

"_Angela, I'm leaving in two weeks." Booth interrupted her. "Less than that now. 12 days and I'll be at the airport getting on my plane. I want Brennan there with me Angela, even if it's just to let me know…to tell me…"_

"_I understand. " Angela assured him quietly. Booth sighed thankfully._

"_12 days, Angela." He repeated quietly. "I've got so much to do- I've got to organize all my stuff and empty my office, and somehow encourage Parker that this isn't a big mistake, when I'm wondering exactly the same thing. I really have to get on. But there is no way I'm leaving her until I know how she really feels."_

"_You know how she feels. " Angela told him gently. "She's scared. And she loves you."_

_Booth let out a great loud sigh. "I know that Angela. It's just getting a little harder to believe every day."_

_Angela could hear the finality in Booth's voice, and knew the call was drawing to a close. Her voice was tinged in desperation as she continued with one last plea. "I'll talk to her, I promise. I'll find out how she feels, and I'll try to get her to come and talk to you." She stopped. "When is your flight?"_

"_Sunday. 4 p.m." Angela took a hasty note of this as Booth continued. "Angela, I know you'll try your best…but I know how stubborn she is. And if you can't get through to her…" A pause. Angela waited for the end of his sentence. "Just…tell her I said goodbye."_

Brennan woke early on Sunday morning. She spent longer than usual brushing her teeth in front of the bathroom mirror, her eyes flickering to see her pale reflection. She avoided the intensity of her own stare; it was like her reflection had an expression, a life all of its own, and it made her uncomfortable. She still carried on her normal routine. She gargled with mouthwash, and flossed. She washed, and applied her makeup, with more mascara than usual, and thick layers of eyeliner. Concealer was used to hide the dark shadows that rested underneath each eye, that looked like bruises. Brennan then got dressed; dark jeans, a black shirt, and boots. Her fingers lingered over the metal chain around her neck, Booth's necklace. She hadn't taken it off since he had slipped it round her neck. She didn't understand why he had done so, but it felt at home around her neck, and for some reason, she wasn't quite ready to take it off just yet. She had wore it for the last fortnight, tucked underneath her shirt out of view. She knew it was there though.

Pulling her hair back into a neat bun as she walked through from the bathroom into the living room, Brennan glanced at the clock. As usual, she was early. She could have some breakfast, then go to the lab, just like every day.

But Brennan knew it wasn't a normal day. She knew fully well what today was, despite how much she had tried to carry on with her regular routine. As she walked into the kitchen, she was face to face with bleak proof of this; the calendar, hung on the wall over the kettle, with today's date unmarked, except for a small note about the dinner that was being held by her publishers that very day, an occasion she was expected to attend. The small note in no way did justice for how serious the day really was. Brennan remembered having added it the very day Booth had given her the necklace; it was like she hadn't been able to mark the true significance of this day, but had marked it with something petty and trivial.

The tiny paper box stood out as though it had been outlined in atomic green highlighter. Brennan tried to avert her eyes. It didn't work. They flickered back, as if drawn to it by some kind of magnetic force. The clock ticked loudly as Brennan moved to sit at the kitchen table, staring at the calendar in utter silence. Her hand found her way to the necklace around her neck. She sat, and thought.

She thought about the events of the upcoming day. She thought about Booth, and what time he was leaving. She hadn't slept at all the previous night, staring at the ceiling, as sleep refused to take her over. She thought about her friend, Angela, and her continuous attempts to start conversations recently. Brennan knew exactly what she wanted to talk about; part of her felt sorry about refusing to talk about it with her friend. However annoying Angela's attempts had been, she just wanted to make things better. Angela's efforts, Brennan knew, were pointless and clearly in vain, but she had seen her friends desperation grow over the past couple of weeks, and part of her resented herself for putting her through this.

Soon, though, it would all be over. Today, all of this would end.

Brennan suddenly decided to skip breakfast, preferring to pick up a coffee on the way to work. She grabbed her jacket, her bag and her laptop case, and the bag that contained her change of formal wear for the dinner later on in the day.

She drove in silence. She didn't tend to listen to music in the car; usually, Booth would be there, and her choice would be limited by his presence. He had a very different, strange taste in music. "Modern," He insisted. "Idiotic" was the word she preferred.

For some reason, Brennan found herself driving a different way to get her coffee. Her new route took her past the FBI building, and she stared straight ahead as she turned the corner. However, she couldn't deny that she found herself straining to see if she could see _his_ car in his usual parking place. When she was sure she couldn't see his car, she felt immediately foolish and drove on at top speed. She wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, so she could tell herself that the moment of weakness had never even happened.

Her eyes strayed to the clock on the dashboard. 8 a.m. Six hours until her dinner event. Brennan's eyes glanced up at the sky. How long until Booth would be leaving?

"Seven hours, Brennan!" Angela practically yelled in frustration. "Eight hours, and you won't see Booth for a year. Why the hell are you working?"

Brennan blinked and looked up from her laptop. "What should I be doing, Angela?"

Angela's jaw dropped, her eyes widened. "You should be talking to him! I can't believe that you're just going to let him go!!"

Brennan got to her feet and walked over casually to collect some files. "Well, believe it, Ange, because it's true. Booth is leaving in seven hours, and my dinner event starts in four. I've got better things to be doing."

"I can't believe you!" Angela began. As her friend walked past, she caught her by the shoulders and forced her to look into her eyes. "Bren. Brennan. Listen to me. Booth loves you, you love Booth. I know that, you know that- hell, everybody you know knows that! You can't just let him leave! Do you know how upset he is?"

Brennan sighed. "No, but I suppose you do. Is this his doing?"

"Is what his doing?"

"You trying to convince me. Is this Booth, getting you to do his work?"

"No, sweetie. This is _me_ doing my _own_ work, and I'm _obviously_ not doing it well because you aren't listening to me!"

" Just let it go, Angela, please. I want to finish the last chapter of my book before I have to go to this thing, and I don't have a lot of time."

"You know who doesn't have a lot of time?" Angela pointed out quickly. " _Booth_. _Booth_ doesn't have a lot of time."

Brennan went back to her desk and continued typing faster and louder than before. Angela sighed.

"Call him, sweetie. Please." There was no response. "Brennan, you love him." Brennan ignored the last few words. "Are you telling me that you haven't even been thinking about him over the last fortnight or so?"

Brennan sighed wearily. "Yes, Angela, that's what I'm telling you."

Angela bit her lip. "So you haven't been thinking about what the two of you were getting up to in the archives when I locked you in?"

Brennan blushed ever so slightly but didn't look at Angela. "Nothing happened between us then, Angela. And I still haven't forgiven you for that."

Angela rolled her eyes. "Brennan. Please. Do not underestimate me. I know exactly what the two of you were getting up to." Brennan looked up at her, embarrassed and incredulous. Angela shrugged. "The security staff thought it was me. They check the tapes ever since they had to warn me away from Cleopatra's bed a while back."

"I haven't been thinking about Booth." Brennan told her friend stubbornly, her face still tinged pink.

Angela tilted her head, and studied her friend intently. "Then why are you wearing his necklace?" Brennan's hand jerked to the necklace around her neck. Angela looked desperately sympathetic. "Please, Brennan. Talk to him. Go and see him."

"I have nothing to say to him. "Brennan said quietly as Angela was walking away. The artist stopped and turned.

"You have a lot to say to him, Brennan. Just…please. You'll regret it if you don't."

Booth sat in his kitchen. His apartment was totally empty, except for the few pieces of furniture that had come originally with the apartment.

He sat in silence with his head in his hands. It was one o'clock. He should really be getting ready to go to the airport. Rebecca and Parker had already gone this morning, and Rebecca, seeing how busy he had been, had offered to take care of all of his luggage, as well as all of hers. They were flying over to London, and driving down to Dover, before taking the ferry to France. Booth had wondered why she was complicating things, but that was just her. Rebecca had always been complicated.

Booth knew Brennan wasn't coming. He remembered she had some kind of dinner around this time, but she hated those things; she never stayed for longer than she had to. Maybe she would already be at home?

He had told himself that this was it; if she didn't come, then he would have to leave. He had tried to get through to her so many times but he knew how stubborn she was. Would she really leave things this late? This was Temperance Brennan. Even if she was conflicted, she would have been earlier than necessary. This was it. He had to leave. She wasn't coming.

Or at least that's what he should have been thinking. This was Booth. _Who I am kidding? _he thought quickly, getting hurriedly to his feet and grabbing his keys. He would never give up on her; he would never allow himself to. Looking around his apartment for the last time, he left, locking the door behind him, and removing the key from his chain. He slowly posted it through the letterbox, and rushed to his car.

He drove in his FBI car for what would probably be the last time in a long time. He was to leave it at the airport; Cullen had arranged for somebody to pick it up later that evening. Booth was grateful to his boss for this but couldn't help feel slightly sad that he was leaving his car behind. Damn he loved this car. He remembered when he had been suspended; the worst thing had been losing the car, to be honest. Sure he would have company car in Paris, but it wouldn't be the same.

A lot of things wouldn't be the same.

He pulled up outside of Brennan's apartment building in record time. He flopped back into his seat in disappointment. Her car wasn't there. Was she still at her event thing? Booth saw a car in her usual spot, sleek and black. Maybe somebody had given her a ride home?

Booth rode the elevator up to her apartment with an odd feeling of apprehension in his chest. He put it down to the fact that he was cutting it quite close. At this rate, he would miss his flight. He just need to speak to her...and pray that there wasn't any traffic when he set off once again.

Booth approached her door as he walked quickly along the corridor. He was prepared to steal her spare key from where she typically hid it if she didn't answer. He didn't care at this point if she got mad at him. He hadn't planned what he was going to say- what could he say that he hadn't already said?- but he knew that he had to try. This woman brought up a strength in him that matched the one Parker caused; he wouldn't give up on her, he couldn't. Hell, if he had to kick down her door, he would.

But there was no need. Her door was ever so slightly open, and Booth stared at it, a feeling of dread washing over him. Brennan never left her door open. Booth reached for his gun, until he remembered that he had already handed it in to Cullen; he was unarmed, and Brennan was in trouble. Slowly, cautiously, he pushed open the door, and prepared to grab any kind of intruder.

But there was no need. Brennan seemed to be dealing quite well with the…"_intruder"._

Booth stood and watched in horror, at the woman he loved, the woman he had driven all the way to see, in a last ditch attempt to convince her that they would work together, to find her lying on the couch, hair tousled, in a silky black dress, one strap falling down her pale shoulder. Her shoes were on the floor, and beside them lay a jacket, carelessly tossed; the jacket of the man who was lying on top of Brennan, the man who was passionately kissing her. His hands were on her arms, then her legs, anywhere where her skin was exposed. Her hands were in his hair.

Booth stood silently and hopelessly. For the first time, he didn't know what to do. Leave, before she saw him? Pull the bastard off of her and break his neck?

Instead, he stood, motionless, his face blank, but his eyes betraying the turmoil of his thoughts and he stared in shock at the events unfolding rapidly in front of him.

And then, suddenly, as if Brennan could feel his burning gaze, she looked up, and gasped. She made contact, she looked in his eyes and saw the pain there, and her emotions flickered quickly across her face. She weakly pushed the confused and disappointed man off her, and tried to tug her dress down where it had rode up.

"Booth…" She began. There were no words to be said. Booth turned, and walked away.

"Sweetie?"

"Angela, I don't know what to do."

Angela was startled by how upset Brennan sounded. "Calm down, sweetie. What's going on?"

"Booth turned up at my apartment," Brennan confessed tearfully, "He saw me…"She paused. Angela felt a prick of dread and knew more was coming. "He saw me with Martin."

"Martin?"

"Martin. He's my temporary editor. We were…" Brennan let out a groan of despair. "God, Angela, what have I _done_?"

Angela stopped. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but she knew there wasn't time.

"His flight leaves at four, Brennan. Go after him."

"I left my car at the event." Brennan sobbed. "And I threw Martin out-"

"Get a cab!" Angela interrupted. "I know you're upset, honey but you need to hurry. Do you love Booth?"

There was a silence. "Yes."

"Then go. Tell him. Quickly!"

Later on, Brennan would spend hours wishing things had gone differently. She found herself playing all of the different scenarios in her head, all the "what ifs?"- what if Booth hadn't seen her with Martin? What if she hadn't been so stupid and had told him she wanted him to stay earlier?

What would have happened?

What would have happened if she had arrived in time?

Because she didn't. As Brennan was in a cab, her blue lab coat pulled over her formal wear, ordering the driver to go faster, Booth was boarding the plane. His face was blank, his movement automatic as he handed over his passport, waited, and boarded the flight without a second glance.

Twenty minutes later, Brennan would rush into the airport, and spend ten minutes searching for him before she realised it was too late. She would frantically call him, again and again. She would even call Rebecca, but all to no avail. Half an hour after she arrived, she would leave, walking through the dark streets back to her apartment with only one thing on her mind. Booth was gone. She had just been too late.


	12. URGENTAuthor's Note

Okay, very quick chapter/ author's note (which I'll delete before I next update). Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has reviewed and also to let you all know that I have put a poll on my page with options on what you want to see in upcoming chapters. There are quite a few options but if you hate them or can't choose because you think that they mostly suck, then I put a mystery thang option on there. I really really want enough people to vote before I next update; I have some really good readers who always review, but then again, I have lots that don't. I have 154 people that have alerted this story and it would mean a lot more if you could actually be bothered to give me feedback after you've come and read it. The more you all vote, the quicker I know which one to do. So please vote!

Oh- if you aren't a registered user but you still want to kind of vote, tell me and I'll count it as a vote.

x


	13. Walking Away

**Howdy!**

**This is the chapter based on the poll I put up- thank you to everyone who took the time to vote, on the actual poll or in reviews- and from this you should be able to see which the majority of you guys voted for.**

**Any suggestions or comments, feel free to PM me, and I am planning to carry on replying to every review.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**_All her life, Temperance Brennan had been the question, the riddle. And then he came along._**

**_The answer._**

* * *

_There are different ways of losing things. You can lose something physical, or something not so literal, something big, or something small._

_Brennan had lost both; something had gone from her life physically, whilst a small part of herself seemed to have vanished along with it._

_She had lost Booth. He had gone, albeit of his own choice, but she had still lost him. She could have gone with him, could have even plucked up the courage to ask him to stay, to stay with her. Why hadn't she? Why had she only succeeded in letting Booth go? _

_She clearly didn't deserve him. It wasn't enough that she had basically thrown their relationship back in his face but she had also unknowingly forced him to witness the biggest act of betrayal she could have committed._

_Even if what she had said had been true, even if the relationship between the two of them was merely the friendship of two close friends, she had still betrayed him. Look at it that way; whilst her best friend was getting ready to fly away for a whole 12 months in France, she hadn't even properly said goodbye, instead attending some pathetic and infantile dinner, striking up flirtatious conversation with her editor, before taking him back to her flat. They had come close, but they hadn't slept together and for that Brennan was truly thankful; it was still one last thing to regret. Every time she thought of Martin, she immediately saw Booth's face at the doorway, eyes hollow, face blank. Brennan felt repulsed just by imagining Martin, felt sick remembering how she had kissed him so passionately, how he had caressed her skin-_

_He had called her numerous times since that terrible night. Every single time his name flashed up on her caller ID she backed away from the phone like it was a venomous viper. The last thing she wanted was a reminder of her complete betrayal- if she had her way, the whole of that night would be totally wiped from either her memory, or existence._

_However, she got the feeling that Martin was one aspect of that night that would simply not vanish._

_Booth had always been there for her; he was her constant, at work, or away from work. He was such a strong part of her life, that realising he was gone gave Brennan the same feeling she supposed somebody who had had a part of their body amputated- an odd feeling, an empty feeling._

_Brennan spent hours thinking about it, and then started thinking about the day her parents left. She compared the situations many times, comparing how she felt now, to how she had felt then. It was harshly similar, but the differences between the situations were what made her upset. _

_When her parents had left, Brennan had lived with some strange but continuous hope that soon, they would come back, and everything would be mended, and fixed like it had never happened. She didn't feel that way now; she couldn't. Sometimes things are broken so many times that they can't be repaired, and this was one of those times._

_And the other difference- when her parents had left, Brennan had felt guilty, wondering if she had caused her parents to abandon her, and, if so, to what extent. Nethertheless, a part of her had known that she wasn't responsible for her parents leaving; how could she have been? Temperance Brennan, no matter whatever her parents were, no matter how quiet and inverted she could be, was a good child. Smart, well behaved, and inquisitive, an attribute that her parents particularly appreciated. They could sit for hours answering her questions, questions much more developed and interesting than you would expect from a child of her age._

_Deep down, Brennan had known that she wasn't the cause of her parents absence. She hadn't known where they were, or how they were doing- she hadn't even known if they were still alive, but she took a tiny comfort in the fact that they had gone on their own accord (or so she had thought.) It still hurt to think that they had chosen to leave her, chosen to leave their two children, but she understood that she wasn't necessarily to blame._

_That wasn't the case here. Brennan knew that she was to blame. She didn't even try to rationalize it, to think about the fact that Booth was leaving no matter what she said, because she knew it would be lies. She could have kept Booth with her, she could even have gone with him, but no- instead she had sent him off, alone, after seeing the woman he loved about to have sex with her editor._

_Well…temporary editor._

_Like it makes a difference._

_Brennan spent three days mulling it over in her head. She didn't touch her laptop, she didn't go into the lab- she didn't even get dressed. This alone said enough about the condition that she was in. Temperance Brennan, in her normal state, would have been repulsed by this odd behaviour, and wouldn't have cared about any suffering, instead just branding any person who lazed around for three days a slob._

_But Brennan was hardly being inactive; she spent all of her time thinking, and thinking hard. But just because she needed time to think, didn't mean people were willing to give her this time and space. Martin was calling, her publisher was calling, Angela, and even Cam were calling. Brennan was tempted to unplug her phone, but she felt the stupid paranoid urge that if she were to unplug her phone then somebody important would phone._

_The only person she would have answered the phone for…was gone. Booth hadn't called, even after Brennan's message, even after her simple phone call. She called his phone numerous times, every inch of her body feeling dull and hollow; she must have heard Booth's pre-recorded voice asking her to leave a message after the damn beep about eighteen times now. She rarely left a message though._

_What would she say? Brennan may have been stubborn but she was strong enough to admit when she was wrong; not this time. Brennan kept comparing the events of late to things that had happened before, and remembering how she had dealt with it all, but it was no use. Whatever had happened in the past could not have prepared her for what was going on now. It just wasn't the same. She just wasn't the same. Brennan was a different person than she had been a few years ago, and that was mostly down to Booth. Brennan was warmer now; it was a little bit easier to let people in. She still had her awkward moments, her blunt moments, but she understood things a little more now- the people around her, their feelings._

_And now, the very person that had helped her to change into a better person, a person who had something…something else in her life, other than death, and mysteries and bones….was gone. What hurt Brennan more; the fact that she hadn't even tried to stop Booth from going - no, urged him to go, and laughed off his invitation for her to come with him - or the fact that he had witnessed her kissing (more than kissing) another man; a man she barely knew professionally, let alone personally. If he hadn't seen her, he would've gone and been upset anyway- for a while. Would he have got over it? Eventually, or so Brennan believed. She felt a surge of pride- Booth was the strongest man she knew. He could overcome anything. Surely the broken remnants of their relationship was just another obstacle that he could overcome? And she would be fine, she could concentrate on work, and write a couple more books, and carry on._

_Brennan didn't spend the whole of the three "slob days" working out reasons why she and Booth shouldn't be together. After all, she had made the huge step in admitting that she did love Booth, she did want to be with him, and live and work and sleep with him, and she had wanted to be in time to catch him at the airport, to work things out and apologise for every single thing that had happened._

_It was just so damn typical! Brennan thought bitterly at least five times a day. And it just fit the pattern that she had become oh so used to- taking risks in personal life just lead to heartbreak._

_Was this heartbreak? Or was this just change? Things change, people change - was she upset because she loved Booth or because something so vital in her life had gone. _

_It was both._

_She missed the smell of Booth; clean, intoxicating, and smooth. She missed how he could fill up the whole room with his presence. She missed his kisses, the way he cupped her cheek, and buried a hand in her hair, supporting her head. She missed everything they had shared, and everything they could've shared. It was stupid, but Brennan found herself practically in mourning when she thought about every touch, every look that would waste away. It was so cliché, but she couldn't help it; it felt like a part of her was missing. It was like every thing Booth had taught her- every annoying pop culture reference, and all the feelings he stirred up in her- strength, pride, happiness…love- had been taken when he left. Brennan was painfully aware of all of this. But at the same time as she felt terrible and guilty, she felt-nothing. She felt hollow, and dull and blank. Maybe Booth's departure hadn't just taken everything positive he instilled in her, maybe it had taken more. She felt weak, she felt stupid- and that was saying something. Brennan was smart, and, although modest, she knew it. She had an IQ that could put most other people's to complete and utter shame. Knowing that she had been an idiot, knowing that she had made such a large significant mistake made her feel pathetic. It made her feel like some stupid irresponsible teenage girl, with a hormone-induced crush that had gone wrong. Brennan herself hadn't been one of those girls, so she didn't have much experience; was this how it felt?_

_So it took three days for Brennan to at least be able to get up. It was a Sunday. She woke up, lying on top of the rumpled bed sheets, staring up at the ceiling, at the same spot that had been her point of main focussing and realised that it couldn't go on. Booth may have gone, and she may have betrayed him. Everything goes away in time; she knew her guilt wasn't likely to leave her, but maybe, just maybe Booth could…well, of course he couldn't forgive her. She already knew that, just by remembering the look on his face when he had walked in and seen her with Martin. But maybe he could be happy? He had put everything into attempting a relationship with Rebecca and that had gone wrong, but he had moved on; couldn't he do it again? It wasn't an excuse- Rebecca had never betrayed Booth as far as she knew- but it proved that maybe, just maybe it was possible. Brennan already knew how strong Booth was. He had Parker, too. He had his son, which was what he always wanted. He could see Parker every day, and see him grow up. Booth could be happy. He couldn't forgive her, and she was uncertain if she would ever see him again. Even if he did return, things would never be the same. If Brennan had a choice, she would go right back to when she and Booth were just friends. She would miss their relationship, and after all, they had already crossed "the line" but Booth would still be here._

_It was too late. Brennan was a rational woman. She knew that she couldn't stay where she was now, in the constant loop of moping, because she could feel just how easy it would be to give up and sink further into the marshy situation in which she currently found herself. Brennan couldn't stay where she was, and she certainly couldn't go back. The last option?_

_Move forward. It was the only option, really. It wouldn't be easy, but if it was, it wouldn't be life. It was strange how tired Brennan was, how weak she felt, and for the first time in a very long time, all she wanted to do was curl up on her bed and sleep her way through the days, the weeks, that loomed ahead. _

_Booth- he had the chance of a new life. Brennan? She had her old life, her life before Booth. She told herself that this was good; after all it had been enough before Booth had arrived in her life, so it should be welcoming now he was gone._

_But would she be able to move on?_

* * *

Brennan had always been impulsive, a surprising trait for somebody so calm and controlled as she was. Sometimes it was her job that urged her to be impulsive, sometimes there were other factors.

And this time?

_Yes, _Brennan had betrayed Booth- _yes_, she had told herself that she had to move on, instead of staying in the same constant loop. It had been two months ago, two months since he had left, and she had been trying to do just that; trying to move on, accept things and deal with them. She thought she had been doing quite well, working, but not obsessively, talking to Angela, eating, sleeping, carrying on.

She hadn't remembered the tour, promoting her work in advance of her new book being (eventually) released. It had been arranged months ago. It was pure coincidence that the first date was at a large bookstore…In France. To be a little more specific, a matter of miles away from where Booth was.

She had tried to put it to the back of her mind, on the plane, at the bookstore, at the hotel…but she couldn't

Temperance Brennan _was_ impulsive, after all.

The car trip was long, and complicated. Brennan kept her eyes glued constantly to the map, as well as having the Sat-Nav on full volume. She never felt truly comfortable driving in a place she wasn't familiar with, but somehow, now it was worse. Somehow, though, she managed to successfully navigate her way from the bookstore near to her hotel, to the apartment block she was searching for. She pulled up outside of it. Slowly, she unhooked the St Christopher, _Booth's_ St Christopher from around her neck, and slipped it into her bag. While she was doing so, her fingers brushed against a small scrap of paper, and she hesitated before pulling it out. She held the small torn fragment, and examined the simple curved portion of Cullen's handwriting. It had taken a while to get the address, but she had done it. Part of her thought that Cam had had something to do with it, but the final outcome was still the same, despite any outside interference.

Booth walked down the corridor and stopped outside of his apartment, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He paused, considering the feeling, but didn't think much else of it. He was tired, it had been a long day - long, but satisfying-, all he wanted was a nice hot bath, a beer, and a couple of pointless hours of TV before an early night..

He let himself in, and walked into his apartment, tossing his keys up and catching them again. He took one more step, then stopped.

That was when he saw her.

There, sat in the corner of the room was Temperance Brennan. At first he thought she was a dream, but no, she was here, he had sensed her presence, she was blinking, breathing, moving. _She was really there_. It didn't seem real. _How? How was she here? _It had been 2 months since he had last seen her, and she had stayed clearly in his mind. Now that she was here, it was different. He stared silently at her; her skin, so pale it was almost eerily transparent, her hair, seeming even darker and richer than ever, her eyes, heavily outlined (since when had she used that much make up?). Brennan was really here.

There was utter silence in the room. Brennan shifted uncomfortably in the chair, and got slowly to her feet, smoothing down her shirt.

"How did you get in?"

"I, er, found your spare key."

"How did you get into the building?"

"The doorman let me in." She told him awkwardly, pulling her jacket around her body a little more. Booth's face remained still, but after a few seconds, he stopped silently observing her and nodded. He moved slowly across the room and placed his keys down on the large wooden table.

"Didn't he ask for ID?" He asked suddenly. It came out quite harsh and demanding, and after seeing the way Brennan's eyes flickered down, he regretted it slightly. He waited, though, and didn't say anything else.

Brennan brushed her long soft hair away from her pale face. "No, actually. I think he recognised me. It looked like he was reading one of my old books."

Booth nodded. "Oh." He thought for a second. "How…how's the new one coming along?"

Brennan seemed relieved at his polite voice, and how they were in easy, if not bland, familiar ground. "It's going fine- thank you. A few more weeks and it should be ready for publication."

"I guess you just need your editor to have a look over it?" Brennan's eyes flashed up to Booth's quickly. Booths face was blank and devoid of any emotion, whereas a drop of guilt spread ripples through Brennan's features.

She cleared her throat nervously and looked down at her hands.

"N-no, I… I think I'm to blame for the delay."

"Writer's block?" Booth asked rather coolly."

"No." Brennan shook her head quickly. "Not exactly. I just can't think of an ending at the moment."

There was another awkward silence.

"Did you get my messages?" Brennan asked quietly.

"I changed my number." Booth said simply. Brennan nodded.

"Oh." She tucked her hands nervously into her coat pockets. "I just.." Her voice trailed off, but her eyes moved up to meet Booth's, and they were startlingly bright against her alabaster skin. "I just called to say…I'm sorry."

As soon as the words had left her lips, Booth was striding into the kitchen hurriedly. He moved to the refrigerator, and pulled down a bottle of water. He gulped it down it three swallows, as he closed his eyes and let the cool air wash over his flushed skin.

Brennan had moved to the doorway, and was watching him, almost timidly.

"I'm sorry, Booth." She repeated.

Booth ran his hand over his mouth, and pretended to search the contents of the refrigerator. "Don't be." Giving up, he turned away and met Brennan's gaze. " It's not like it matters any more, right?"

Brennan paused, and frowned slightly. "Booth - it _clearly _matters."

Booth refused to look at her, and strode past her back into the lounge. Brennan hesitated for a moment, before following him. She felt so out of place; she held her bag tightly and didn't remove her jacket.

Booth wasn't being exactly…welcoming. She hadn't been expecting any kind of warmth from him, but it still hurt her by how distant they were from each other now. She watched him as he paced to the window. He was wearing dark jeans, and a green t-shirt, with a beaming emoticon on the front. Other than this sign of quirkiness, his outfit seemed relatively tame; from what she could see, his belt was plain leather, and his socks seemed to be just as staid. She wondered if he still wore bright and bizarre ties, but couldn't ask him.

"Brennan?" Brennan looked up quickly, embarrassed by being so easily distracted, and flushing a little as he said her name. He was looking at her now, and that very glance hurt her almost physically; it wasn't careless, merely curious- there was none of the usual urgent desperation for her answer, no worry or care. Just curiosity. She was no longer an answer he longed for; now, she was just a question.

Why _wouldn't_ things have changed? She hadn't seen him for 2 months now. A lot of other things had changed.

She forced a shy smile. "Nothing, just…" She gave a quiet, embarrassed laugh. "Forget it, it doesn't matter."

Booth didn't pursue this. He looked at her for second or so, and sat down. Brennan followed suit, placing herself delicately on the sofa opposite him. Her hands fiddled nervously in her lap.

"How's work?" Brennan asked quickly. Booth looked surprised, but nodded.

"Fine, fine, it's very…French."

Brennan nodded. "Were you expecting something else?"

Booth shrugged. "It's kind of hard to arrest somebody when you can barely understand a word they're saying. But y'know, I manage."

Brennan swallowed. "Good. I'm…I'm happy for you, Booth." There was a pause. "How is Parker?"

"Fine. Adjusting." Booth sighed. "I think we both know you didn't come all the way across town from a publicity deal to talk about Parker."

Brennan froze, and managed to nod. "I wanted to say sorry-"

"You already did." Booth pointed out. Brennan stopped, and looked down at her hands briefly.

"Could I please just explain, Booth?"

"You don't need to explain it to me. Why does it matter?"

Brennan ran her hands roughly through her hair.

"Please, Booth?"

Booth got to his feet, and walked to the window, looking out over the city. Brennan sighed, but forced herself to speak, even if it was just to Booth's back.

"Martin is…was my publisher. I bumped into him at the dinner that day, and…I had too much to drink, and I was incapable of making the right decision and…what happened was wrong." Booth continued to look out of the window. Brennan continued. " I regret what happened, and if I could go back and change things, I would. In a heartbeat."

Brennan looked down at her hands. "I just… I had to properly apologise for hurting you, Booth. Really."

Brennan got to her feet; she saw Booths shoulders tense. Brennan walked towards the door but couldn't force herself to leave. She slowly turned back to him.

"I came to the airport. After you…after you left my apartment, I got a cab and I came to the airport, but I'd missed you. I-I don't know…what I was hoping to achieve, but…I wanted you to know. That I was wrong. That…I did love you." Brennan paused. "Do love you. Still. And I handled it all wrong. I'm not trying to make excuses, I just…I'd like to be friends, at least. If you can forgive me."

Booth had been silent the entire time Brennan was speaking. Now, though he didn't turn, he spoke, and from where she stood, Brennan could see a blurred reflection of his face.

"I can't."

Brennan froze.

"I can't forgive you, Brennan. I told you how I felt about you, I asked you to come with me, I know you find that kind of stuff hard to handle, but I was willing to be with you every step of the way, and you threw it back in my face. That-" He pushed his hands through his hair impatiently, "That I might have been able to handle, given time, and then I walk in and see you with some guy-"

"I didn't want to-"

"Well, you didn't seem to be fighting him off, Brennan." Booth said bitterly. He sighed, and Brennan could see him brushing his hands over his face. She stood, still, by the doorway.

"It was a mistake," She said quietly, "I never planned for this to happen-"

"And if it hadn't have happened?" Booth asked her. "How do I know what you would have said at the airport, really? Because whenever I thought about it, all I could think about was you, and him-"

"There is no me and Martin, there is nothing between us now, and there never should have been a relationship between us that was anything other than professional. We worked together, and then we just made one stupid mistake-"

"Well, that seems to happen to you a lot, doesn't it?" Booth pointed out. Brennan stared at him, as he continued. "Relationship with a colleague, turned into more, then the next thing you know, it was a mistake, forget about it, move on." Brennan was silent. "Does he love you?"

Brennan looked up, gob smacked by his sudden question. "What?"

"Martin. Does he love you?"

Brennan opened her mouth as if she was going to speak but the words wouldn't come out. She shook her head, and choked out, "Of-Of course he doesn't love me, Booth, it didn't mean anything-"

"The whole time we were…involved, it always felt like it was me who was pushing everything along, almost like you didn't want any of it, but you were just doing me a favour, going along with it-"

"Booth! That isn't true at all!"

"It always felt like I wanted things to work a lot more than you ever did. I know you've haven't had things easy, I get why you find it hard to trust people. But I know how strong you are, I know you would have been able to get past it. You said you trusted me, when we were friends, right? So how could us getting closer have changed that? Even if it hadn't have worked, I would have looked after you, I would have done everything possible to make things right again."

The whole time Booth was speaking, his voice was low and quick and furtive, as if the words had been stewing in his mind for quite some time, waiting to be released. Brennan stood, a few feet away from him, watching in horror at how broken and upset he sounded. It was like she recognised some part of it from herself, from the way she was feeling, but other than that, she was so confused. She couldn't pretend to know how he was feeling otherwise.

Finally, he turned to look at her. His face was still blank, and calm, but his eyes were flashing. Brennan felt a lump in her throat, and she swallowed. Booth watched her silently.

"Booth, I'm sorry- just, please- tell me what I can do to fix this, whatever you want-"

"There's nothing I want from you anymore." Booth said simply. There was another long silence, the worst one yet. Brennan could hear the finality in Booth's words, the dismissal in them, and she wanted to wipe them away. She wanted to wipe away everything she had heard in his voice; the bitterness, the sadness, the dull acceptance, and this, the final thing; it took her a while to process it. Had he really just said that?

"I love you." She said quietly, and there was an element of surprise in her voice, as if she had never realised how true this was. Brennan was at a crossroads. Her walls should have been building themselves back up, brick by brick, but they had abandoned her, and she felt horribly exposed. A single tear slid down her pale face, and she let it, not even trying to hide it, or brush it away.

Booth may have felt a lot of things about Brennan at that moment, but he wasn't finished building up his own walls yet, either. He took a step forward, and took her face in his cupped hands, brushing away her tears. Brennan tried to meet his gaze.

"Please, Booth-"

"Don't, Brennan. This is it, okay? And I know this isn't the best thing for you to hear, but maybe now you know how I felt? Wanting something you didn't?" Brennan nodded, choking back a sob. She tried to control herself, looking up at him, and attempting a weak smile.

"It was you." She told him. "It was always you." Booth didn't have to ask what she meant. He nodded, and looked down at her, at her pale skin, her teary face. He leaned over, and pressed a soft simple kiss on her forehead. He pulled away, and took a step back. Almost as soon as the contact was broken, Brennan straightened up, pulling herself back together. Booth could see her doing it; collecting everything that was broken, every word she had uttered, every word she hadn't, bundling it all up and storing it away.

"I'm sorry for how it all turned out." Brennan said to Booth, and now the same finality she had heard from him minutes earlier was echoed in her own words. All she could think about was how this didn't hurt as much as it should- _Why doesn't it hurt me more? _She wondered, _I'm saying goodbye to Booth and I'm still in one piece_. But on the outside, Brennan was wiping her face, and clearing her throat, straightening her hair, and getting ready to leave. She clutched her bag even tighter, picturing his necklace, laying at the bottom where she had slipped it earlier. She should give it back to him, and end things properly, but she knew she was too selfish to part with it. That had been his goodbye, the one she couldn't force herself to forget, and it was hers now.

"Goodbye, Booth." She said quietly. He nodded. It looked like he was going to speak, but no words came out, so Brennan slowly turned, and walked out of his apartment.

* * *

Walking away was the hardest part. Forcing herself to carry on, walking away from him, further and further, when all she wanted to do was go back to him. But she knew he was being serious; this was the end, it all stopped here; she had hurt him so much that the compromise of friendship between them wasn't even an option anymore. This was everything she had feared, and more, and what was she doing? She was calmly walking away, taking the elevator down, walking through the lobby. She was walking to her hired car, climbing in it, and driving to her own hotel.

Why had she come here? To say goodbye, to say sorry, or to salvage their relationship? None had really succeeded, bar the first, and that was the final one, the one that ended the others. But after everything has ended, everything is said and done, and you have forced yourself to walk on, move on- what do you do?


	14. Mr Seeley Booth

**Tada! Good news, random news and bad news. The good news is that you have all been absolutely fabulous with your reviewing on the last chapter. Also, I know how this story is going to progress and damn it feels good! But I am going to put a poll up anyway, just because you have all been amazing so I feel like even though I know how the story is going to go, you can still get a say in stuff!**

**Thank you for all of your support, especially as more of you are starting to get involved and actually give me feedback and those that have reviewed up to this point, I'm going to be replying to your reviews. It means a lot, so thank you.**

**And the bad news....this is my last update for a few days- I'll probably be updating either Sunday, but probably it'll be Monday/Tuesday. So please take the chance while I'm gone to review and vote on my poll. If you have any other suggestions please put them in your review and I'll take them into account.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Angela, I really don't see what the problem is. " Brennan protested, looking up in exasperation at her artist friend. "I'm doing what you told me to. I'm moving on, aren't I?"

Angela paced quickly in front of Brennan's desk. "Yeah, sweetie, but I'm starting to think I might have got it all wrong."

Brennan's frown smoothed out and she looked earnestly up at Angela. " On the contrary, Angela, I think you got it completely right. Your advice has really worked." As she was speaking, her eyes flickered back to the computer screen and she began typing once again. Angela sighed. Brennan working on a book?- yeah, _that_ was obsessive. Brennan on an internet dating site was ten times worse.

She stepped forward and pushed the laptop shut. Brennan's eyes widened as she looked at her friend in disbelief.

"_Ange_!" She quickly reopened the computer, only for it to be pushed shut smartly a couple of seconds later. "I was talking! They're going to think I'm extremely rude!"

Angela rolled her eyes quickly and scoffed. "Whatever. Like they'd even care."

Brennan frowned. "What does that mean?"

Angela leaned closer to Brennan and spoke carefully. "I just.. .I don't think it's a great idea anymore."

"But you said communicating with new people over the internet would be a new experiment-"Brennan began to remind Angela. Angela waved the words away carelessly.

"So? I made a mistake. Everybody makes mistakes, don't they? And I _really_ think you being on that website is a big mistake. What if something happens? I mean, you hear about it all the time. Hot, 35 year old craftsman from Boston? Yeah, he's some fifty year old nerd living in his mom's basement. Or worse."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "I am fully aware of the risks of internet dating Angela. What I can't understand is what made you change your mind so suddenly?"

"It isn't a sudden change," Angela weaved her words carefully. "I've always had my doubts."

"You told me that it was perfectly safe," Brennan reminded Angela quickly, with clear accuracy, "You told me that fears based on using communications via the internet, though with its risks, is highly beneficial in the manufacture and introduction to a whole new world, plus a whole new group of people-"

"The world is full of really bad people, sweetie- you should know, you see their handiwork out their every day!" Angela gestured out towards the platform. "I just want you to be careful, and take it slow, and let me know what you're doing, so that I don't have to constantly worry about you-"

"Fine!" Brennan sighed, "But only because I know that you will refuse to leave me alone until you get your way, right?"

Angela grinned mischievously. "You know me so well, sweetie."

Brennan beckoned to her friend, and Angela stooped down behind Brennan and squinted at the screen. "Wow," She commented airily, "A lot of friends."

Brennan nodded. "It's a very popular site. There are thousands of people online in the chat rooms at literally any given time, from all around the world and these-" She extended her finger and trailed it down the long list on the right hand side of the screen, "These are the people I correspond with."

"_Chat_ with, Brennan. It's a _chat_ room." Angela said distractedly, as she scanned the list. "You talk with _all _of these people?"

Brennan nodded.

"Well, just as long as you don't meet them," Angela concluded ,still examining the screen names. Brennan looked oddly at her friend.

"Angela, I thought you approved of this sort of thing."

Angela bit her lip. "I do. I _did_. But these things are really dangerous, sweetie, and I don't want you to go off and get yourself hurt. Like I said, there are some bastards out there that are doing this for all of the really wrong reasons, and it can end badly." She paused. "Especially for you."

"Why especially for me? I'm exactly like all of the other people corresponding- _chatting_- on this site."

Angela arched an eyebrow. " Do all of the people on this site have a high-profile job making enemies every day, as well as making tons of obsesso fans every time they release one of their books?"

"Angela, you're exaggerating-"

"I'm not! Or are you just conveniently forgetting that bizarre fan that broke into your hotel room in Seattle a couple of years back and stole all of your luggage?"

Brennan blinked. "The police tracked down the guy. He never got to sell any of the stuff, and it wasn't important anyway-"

"_Obsessive_. It was _obsessive_." Angela looked surprised as one of the contact names started flashing. Somebody was talking to Brennan.

"Who's that? "**CollateralDamage101**"? "

Brennan shrugged. "Not too sure."

"And that?"

"I think she's called Sam, she's a doctor in New York."

"And that?"

Angela didn't miss the way Brennan's cheeks flushed slightly pink ,but she decided not to say anything.

"That's, erm, Leylan. He's a doctor, too."

"From?"

"Not too far from here, actually."

"And?"

"And…" Brennan began slowly, carefully choosing her words. "He's nice."

Angela studied her friend silently for a minute, then sighed. She leaned back over and squinted at the screen again. "And who…" She stabbed at the screen. "**Snakes_Eyes**"? "_**Baxon-Roller**_?" "

"Just chat room moderators. They just check things don't get too out of hand, they're probably just a computer. Nothing to worry about."

"But I _am_ worrying, sweetie! Just-"

"Brennan?"

Both women looked up at the doorway, the source of the voice. It was Cam, holding a phone, hand cupped over the bottom so that the person on the other side of the call couldn't hear the conversation. She spoke quietly. "Sorry to interrupt, but I've got Cullen on the phone- I guess the answer's still no?"

"Yes - sorry." Brennan replied. Cam nodded and left the room. Angela looked down at Brennan, confused.

"What does Cullen want?"

Brennan shrugged, looking determinedly at the screen and not at her friend. "He just wanted to know if I was interested in field work, again."

Angela's face softened and she bit her lip. "And you don't-"

"No." Brennan replied immediately. "No, I don't."

"Sweetie…it's been three months. Booth isn't coming back."

Brennan visibly stiffened. "I know, Ange. I'm fine, I'm moving on, I just… I think I've had enough of field work."

"What about when Booth gets back?"

"I don't think he's coming back, Ange. " Silence, echoing through the room. Angela squeezed Brennan's shoulder. "Maybe it would be good for you?"

Brennan sighed. "I don't have the time, Angela. My book was due months ago now, and I still haven't finished the last chapter!"

Angela looked curious. "You're having trouble? That's not normal for you, is it?"

Brennan shook her head. "To be honest, I'm thinking about pulling the whole thing, Ange."

"What?? Why?"

"It just doesn't seem…right. I don't know..."

"So what are you going to do?" Angela asked.

"Well, I guess I just have to push on with it all."

Angela watched as Brennan closed down her chat room windows and opened up a new document. Before her friend became immersed in typing, Angela swallowed and spoke gently.

"Do you miss him, sweetie?"

Brennan froze. "I really think I should carry on Angela. I've got an incredible amount of work to do-"

"Brennan. Sweetie. You can talk to me, you know. The world won't end if Temperance Brennan confides in somebody."

Brennan's shoulders slumped but she kept her voice light when she spoke. "Of course I miss him. Every day. He was…my partner and my best friend rolled into one."

"Call him."

"Ange, I…I spoke to him. He's moved on, so I need to as well."

"You love him. And he loves you."

"Loved."

"_Loves_." Angela insisted. " Maybe if you can't talk to him, write to him?"

Brennan didn't reply. Angela took the hint, and slowly walked from the office.

Brennan glanced up as Angela was leaving and bit her lip.

She couldn't write to Booth.

Could she?

Brennan couldn't remember ever writing to Booth - texts clearly didn't count. Of course, she had mentioned him in her letter, when the Gravedigger had kidnapped her, along with Hodgins. To be fair, he had been a serious point of focus in her letter, but he didn't know that; nobody did. That letter had never left her pocket after Booth had saved her, and now it was hidden between the pages of a thick dictionary in the depths of her closet. Brennan hadn't been able to bring herself to burn the torn page. Hiding it away was the best option.

Brennan sighed, and brushed her hands down over her face in exasperation. She stared ahead at her at her computer and tried to get past this stupid…_problem_. She had denied twice, to Booth and Angela, that she had writers block, because she refused to believe it. Temperance Brennan had never had writers block in her whole writing career. It came naturally to her, whether quickly or gradually, but it still came. The mere suggestion that she had writers block embarrassed her, and made her feel oddly pathetic and inferior.

"Brennan?"

Brennan looked up; it was Cam again, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, Doctor Brennan, but I just got off the phone to Cullen, he asked me to talk to you-"

"You know I'm not going to change my mind, Cam."

Cam grinned and nodded. "I think I know you well enough by now to know that, Doctor Brennan. No, I told Cullen and he's asked if you could just pop over quickly for a word."

Brennan looked slightly taken aback. "Now?"

Cam nodded. "As soon as possible, he said. Do you want me to call him back and tell him it isn't convenient for you?Brennan shook her head but gave a grateful half smile. "No, thank you, Cam. I think in this situation it would be better to get whatever he wants to talk about over with as quickly as I can."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Brennan walked into the corridor of the F.B.I building onto which, at the very end, lead Cullen's office. She approached it slowly, and knocked on the door. She heard an invitation to enter, and opened the door smoothly.

"Doctor Brennan." Cullen greeted her simply, and waved an arm at the chair across the desk from him. "Please, take a seat. And thank you for coming at such short notice."

"Thank you. And it was no problem at all, although I have had to put aside work on my new book-"

Cullen looked partly surprised, and partly amused at her polite, yet rather blunt attitude. "Well, of course. I know how busy you are, Doctor Brennan, even without field work."

Brennan smiled. "I take it that is what you want to talk to me about? Continuing with my field work?"

"Very astute of you, Doctor Brennan; you are, of course, correct." There was a silence. "You are one of the F.B.I's greatest connections, maybe the best of your profession. You have become a great asset to our work."

Brennan glanced down at her lap. "With the greatest respect, sir, field work isn't what I ever intended to do; it isn't _my_ work, if you see what I mean."

"But you have enjoyed it?" Cullen probed. Brennan remained silent, and he leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Does this have anything to do with Booth's departure?"

Brennan stubbornly avoided Cullen's gaze. She focussed her attention on the cabinet behind his head, her eyes raking over trophies, and pictures; her eyes fell upon two in particular- one of a young girl she recognised as Cullen's daughter, Amy, lying smiling in her hospital bed, and another, a pastel picture of a field of sunflowers, one of the young girl's pieces, framed. Brennan swallowed.

Cullen had been watching her intently. "I understand that his leaving will have had a great effect on you, but you do understand you played no part in his choice to leave?" He stopped, realising how his words could have been taken the wrong way. "What I'm trying to say is…everybody in the building knows how much Booth cared about you. It was bordering on predatory. One wrong look and he had guys backed up against the water cooler with handcuffs on." Cullen sighed. "I gave you his number, and contact details. Did you talk to him."

Brennan nodded. "Yes. I was in France and I went to see him.

Cullen looked surprised. "Oh." He opened his mouth as if he was about to add something more, but he didn't. It took him a few seconds to collect himself again before he continued. "And?"

Brennan flushed, and looked down at her lap. "He's moving on, and I should too, right?"

What happened next surprised even Brennan. Cullen, with a big snort of amusement, switched from professional, to office gossip. "No offence to you, Doctor Brennan, but that is the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard." He spotted the astonished look on Brennan's face. "Booth? Moving on from you? That's funnier than half of the crappy jokes I see on the walls of the men's toilets every day. Booth isn't moving on. No way."

Brennan was so surprised she forgot to be indignant. "How do you know?"

"I just…I just know! Seriously, you think he's moving on?"

"That's the message I got."

He exhaled deeply. "Doctor Brennan; for everything I like about you, you can be overly stubborn, cold-hearted, awkward and annoying, but despite all that, Booth loves you. If I've learnt a thing or two about love after twenty five years of marriage, it's that something like that doesn't go away just because he's moved to Europe."

Brennan sighed awkwardly. "Things…happened. This isn't a normal situation. "

"With you and Booth? How could it be?" Cullen chuckled to himself. "Look, Doctor Brennan, say if I sound too Hallmark, I'm probably not as good as this as your friend- Angela?- is, but you…you did me a favour helping me with my daughter's case, so let me give you advice. Love doesn't mean never having to say you're sorry, or any of that crap. I've found that love means never giving up. And if you love Booth, why the hell are you even thinking about giving up?"

Brennan's jaw slackened and she stared at Cullen. "I…it isn't giving up, exactly, sir-!"

Cullen shrugged. "Seems like it to me." He leaned forward a fraction more. "Imagine this a case. The climax of the case, where you're learning everything and piecing it all together in that smart-ass way of yours. Something seems missing, or wrong, or doesn't fit. You going to screw everything and forget about it?"

"I can't forget about it." Brennan said quietly. Cullen nodded.

"So do something about it." He told her simply . Without another word, Brennan got to her feet and left the room. Cullen, watching her leave, sighed, and picked up the phone, and began dialling.

* * *

Brennan sat at the table in her kitchen, and slowly sealed up the letter, smoothing down the edges of the envelope to emphasize to herself how final this was. She held the envelope in her hands, and although it was virtually weightless, she could almost physically feel the burden it carried; weighed down by her words, her neat script spanning across the sheet of A4 paper, and again, slightly messier, on the older, torn piece of paper, folded in half neatly. The sun was beginning to set, and her apartment was lit with the soft glow coming from the lamps on available surfaces. Taking her pen, Brennan neatly printed the address on the front of the envelope, and the name: Mr Seeley Booth. She held it for a few more seconds in her hands, then got to her feet, and went to post her letter.

* * *

_Dear Booth,_

_It has been three months since I came to visit you at your apartment- and I firstly feel like I should apologise for ambushing you. I shouldn't have turned up so abruptly with no prior warning, and for that, I am very sorry. It wasn't my intention to inconvenience you. This letter is already sounding much more formal that I had planned._

_And once again, I am writing to apologise for what…happened. For what I did. You have every right to stop reading now; in fact, I have no idea if you will even be reading this letter. You might have already recognised my writing on the envelope, and thrown it away - it is also a possibility that I decide not to send this letter to you. Well, if that is the case, you wouldn't be reading this, and you wouldn't even be aware of any of this, so moving on swiftly…_

_I am sorry. So very very sorry, Booth, that I betrayed you in so many different aspects. I betrayed you as a colleague, as a friend…and as more._

_I know now, that we were always more._

_Even if I had decided not to pursue a relationship with you, I still shouldn't have been so idiotic, I should have come and said goodbye. Even as a friend, I owed you that- that, and so, so much more._

_Martin was a mistake. I've said this to you, but I need to say it again. I know this might seem selfish to you, as if I feel the need to explain my actions in the hope that I will feel better about what I have done, but you don't have to worry. That will not happen. There is no way I will ever feel better about what happened. I am writing because I cannot stand the thought of you feeling like you have done something wrong, and when I think about you being upset because of something I did I feel ill. So please, if you are still reading, continue._

_You were, of course, right; I was stupid. This kind of thing, I must admit, does tend to alarm me, but if I had you, surely I should have managed? There has always been you. I trust you with my life, and I would happily lay down mine for you if you ever needed me to do so. I should have put my fears aside, and relied on the trust I know I have. Stupidity is something I see every day- something I saw every day, with the cases we dealt with, and it was something I didn't understand. With your help, I was beginning to understand people doing things based on their emotions, but things based on pure stupidity? That I have never understood, that I have mocked, and now it is something I am forced to see and acknowledge in myself._

_It has taken a while but I have realised many things recently. I have held on to my fears for so long now, doubting even the people I trust, never taking great chances in my personal…romantic…life, but now I know that you were the chance that I should have taken. Having you with me has made my life a better place. I know we argued, about everything from cooked fruit in pie, to who was the better driver, but all those things are just what made us us. You were always there for me, and you didn't have to be. Some people would have held me and my problems at an arms length, too scared to deal with them, but not you. You seemed to see past everything I have tried for so long to hide, and you got past my defences. I don't know if you have ever known that, but it is true. But there are parts of me I never thought I'd have to face, demons and fears I thought I wouldn't need to confront. I was wrong. Stupid and wrong. My fears make me, and they are part of my past, part of me. They will always be there, but I know now that they were controlling me. You always said nobody would ever be able to control me, that I would always be in control. My fears have controlled me and I never even knew. I was always afraid. Afraid that if I admitted that we were so much more than friends, actually allowed myself to get immersed in our relationship then maybe you would find somebody else, or maybe I would do something. Maybe something would happen, maybe the line would come back? And then everything would have been ruined, all on some chance that went wrong._

_You said that you would have looked after me if it would have gone wrong. I believe you. Angela says that once a couple have been in a relationship then they can't do "the friend thing." Maybe we could have? You said that I am strong, when I came to visit you. I don't know about that, but I do know you; and you are strong. I trust you entirely and…maybe if I'd have known all of this a few months ago, then I wouldn't be here, sat with my "what if's" and my "maybe's", writing this letter. Maybe I would be with you, one way or another?_

_Like I said, I am not quite naïve enough anymore to expect you to properly forgive me (stupid, scared, wrong and naïve- quite a collection) and I know that, after everything I have put you through, I can't expect us to fall into a relationship, and live happily ever after. That doesn't happen even with the most normal of people. I miss you. I miss everything about you. But it isn't just the more recent parts of our time together that I miss; I miss our friendship too. I know it is a lot to ask, but I would at the very least like us to be friends. I can't force you, and I respect that it is a decision that you alone can make, but it would mean a lot to me. I…I don't know what that will mean to you, but please, think about it. I do miss you. I miss our bickering, I miss the way you fill up a room, I miss your voice, I miss your smile and your life and your nagging. I miss your hand on the small of my back, helping me, guiding me. I miss how possessive you can be. I was talking to Cullen today- I'm not sure exactly what he means about you pinning people up against the water cooler because of me??_

_Speaking of Cullen, I've told him I'm not going to do field work anymore. It wouldn't seem right. I walked past your office on my way out of the building; it's so empty now. I couldn't just take on another inspector and go out there and carry on. Maybe once, a long time ago. Not now._

_I've enclosed something that I'd like you to read. I have never shown it to any other person. I have been hiding it ever since I wrote it. Some of it may not make a lot of sense, but I doubt Hodgin's did, either. I know you know he wrote Angela a letter; we both wrote letters. Did you ever wonder what was in mine?_

_Here it is. No more secrets._

_Please think about it. Call, any time, day or night, or write back, or email. It doesn't matter._

_I miss you._

_I love you._

_Yours always,_

_**Bones.**_


	15. A Night To Remember

**Many apologies for the delay and for any errors in my work- I promise I'll be updating a lot more now, and I'll try to reply more to reviews. Things have just been a bit difficult lately. Anyway, thank you to everyone who reviews- and how about we get to 200 reviews this time?? Mega- update if we do :)**

* * *

The silent was thick, and tense as he waited. Stood, watching her silently, and as usual she wasn't even aware of it. What could he do to make her notice him again?

Today. Today that would happen. This was the answer.

* * *

_Brennan wasn't naïve. Awkward, yes, but not naïve. Although she was clever (and that was putting it extremely modestly) there were times, certain situations, where she didn't understand things, emotions or motives. This, in her opinion, wasn't one of those situations. She understood what was going on; she had done when she hadn't got a reply to her letter. How long had she waited? Two weeks. Maybe not long enough, but somewhere deep inside her, it was long enough for her to know that Booth wasn't going to reply. She put the contents of the letter to the back of her mind; she flushed when she thought of them, but everything she had said, in the new letter and the old, had been the truth, and Booth had deserved to see that. She tried to ignore the dull ache inside her chest that had been growing, getting bigger every extra day she waited for a reply._

_Eventually she accepted it. The denial faded away, and it was replaced by acceptance. In a second, she would change the situation, but she knew she couldn't. Brennan took comfort in the fact that she had done everything that she could have done, short of flying out there to France to see Booth- and how well had that gone the first time?_

_Moving on was the option now, the only option, and Brennan was okay with that; it was perfectly natural and besides, what else was she supposed to do? She was ready to move on, to adapt to this new life._

_Moving on meant meeting new people, not necessarily to replace the person she had lost, but to open new areas of her life. If she was being honest with herself, Brennan wasn't looking for love; that was something she already had. She was lonely. She wanted company, attention, a decent conversation._

_Life returned to normal after the expectant waiting and the bruising disappointment. She returned to her work, her novel, which she finished to a level that satisfied her. It was being checked, the only thing left on her manuscript to add being the dedication. Thinking of that was almost as hard as it had been to think of a plot line for the actual book._

_Since she had sent that letter, a lot had happened, and things had been moving quickly._

_Brennan spent a lot of her time in her online chat rooms, talking to people she had never even met, especially Leylan. They had a lot in common, surprisingly. He was a doctor and he was - how had she described him to Angela? He was "very nice". He was a challenge, a new interesting task and the concept of him intrigued her. They shared ideas, and information about their history._

_It would have been a lie if Brennan had claimed that she knew everything about Leylan, that she was "falling for him" because she wasn't. They got on well, they could talk in a light hearted way one minute, and a serious friend the next, something she had really missed._

_Brennan was under no misconceptions that Leylan was "the one". How could she be in love with him? He was like a companion, and when she saw a message from him in her inbox, her mood lightened a little. But love? No. She just missed it; having somebody to communicate with, even if she didn't know him at all._

_Seeking comfort, Brennan took a brave step, and did something Angela would have advised against, and many people would have been too scared to do. She arranged to meet up with him, at an Italian Restaurant. She kept the news to herself, hoarding it close. It wasn't a date; it was a meeting. Still, though, she made the effort, dressing well, and looking amazing as usual. She didn't feel like she was going over the top; after all, it was going to be a night she would remember for the rest of her life._

* * *

"Wake up, sleepyhead. Come on, darling, you've been asleep for hours. Don't you want to wake up and see where you are?"

Brennan jerked awake with a start. She couldn't see, and she could feel a tight rough strip of fabric gagging her mouth. Brennan let out a scared whimper, and tried to move her hands, only to find that they too were bound. She seemed to be sat up, tied to a chair, not knowing where she was. Clearly it was serious- had she been kidnapped? She tried to focus on the last thing that she could remember- going for dinner with Leylan. Had Leylan been kidnapped too?

Brennan strained to hear any sounds around her; she could hear the squeak of pacing footsteps.

A second later, Brennan jumped; she felt hands on the back of her head, untying the blindfold, and tugging the gag out of her mouth. The fabric moved away from her eyes and Brennan cried out, gasping suddenly. She blinked frantically as she wheezed, and her eyes became accustomed to the dark, dim surroundings. Brennan was in a huge room, so large that she couldn't even see where it ended. There were pale walls, but they were so shrouded in shadows that they looked black. The light was scarce, and the only window Brennan could see was protected by thick black shutters clumsily nailed to block out all but a few streaks of lights. Other than the chair she was tied to, and a table a few metres away, the room was empty.

Brennan's heart was racing furiously.

"Who's there?" She cried out. Her desperate voice echoed. "Who is it? Who's there??"

"Relax, sweetheart. You've got nothing to worry about." The voice was low, and smooth, and it made Brennan feel sick. She strained to see the mystery man, but there was no need. A moment or so later, he strode out in front of her, by the table. He was cloaked in shadows, and so Brennan couldn't make out any of his features. He was tall, that was all she could tell. Brennan watched in terror as his hands ran over the objects on the table. The fear was so overwhelming it felt like she was drowning, as it was thick and clouding up her lungs. The voice was so familiar, the figure, too. But through her terror, Brennan couldn't deduce where she had heard it before.

"Who are you?" She demanded. The man didn't respond and Brennan felt her anger growing. "Tell me!"

The figure sloped towards her and she stiffened. He came close enough to watch her, but not close enough for her to see his face. Light from the shuttered window revealed his hands, just; they, too were incredibly familiar, long fingers and nails, but she couldn't place them. When he spoke, his voice was light, with underlying tones of control.

"Oh, I just _love_ it when you get assertive with me. It's such a turn on for me, you know that? Maybe it's just you. You _do_ have that effect on me. Dr Brennan."

Brennan felt like somebody had poured icy water down over her head, like it was trickling down her neck. "Who are you? What do you want?"

The man tutted. "Now now, Temperance, such a cliché question. Surely you of all people can think of a better one?"

"What do you want?" Brennan repeated through gritted teeth.

The man's voice suddenly took on a fiercer tone.

"What I wanted was you, on my terms, but that wasn't going to happen while your knight in shining armour was here was it?"

"What?"Brennan spluttered. Her heart was pounding through the silence.

"Seeley Booth!" The stranger spat out and Brennan was alarmed by the pure venom in his voice. "Always there, always. Did you never feel…just pissed off at him? God, always there, never freakin' leaving, and walking round like he owned the damn place!"

Part of Brennan hated the way the mysterious and furious figure was talking about Booth, as well as struggling to wonder how he could possibly know about him, about her life. Her mind flashed back, weeks ago, to Angela warning her desperately about the dangers of meeting people online- she clearly recalled her saying something about a past event with a crazed fan. Was this what this was now?

"Look," She began slowly, carefully, "Whoever you are, whatever you've done-"

"No, no, no!" The man quickly interrupted. Brennan bit her lip and squinted through the darkness. "We aren't talking about me, are we, Tempe? We're talking about your boyfriend."

"Booth isn't- _wasn't_- my boyfriend."

"Who are you kidding? Boyfriend. Lover. Friends with benefits, I don't care, he got more than he deserved, a hell of a lot more than _I _got!" Brennan kept silent and still. His voice was now filled with new levels of anger, that chilled her right to the bone, and still she felt like she could recognise the voice from somewhere.

"But he left. I wouldn't have. I would have stayed and kept you with me. Where you should be. Where you belong." The man paced forwards. Brennan could see the shadowed outlines of his form; he was facing her, his hands seemingly clenched.

"Yet it's taken you so damn long to move on from the bastard! After everything he did to you?!"

"He didn't do anything to me." Brennan's steady words didn't betray her fear. "He just wanted to look after me."

The man scoffed, incised. "Look after you? No. Because men like him, Temperance, are _players_. They enjoy the challenge. And holy shit, you're a challenge." He exhaled loudly. "Of course. He left because the fun was gone. He had what he wanted. He used you, so you'll forget him."

"_I can't_." Brennan whispered automatically.

"Of course you can! In time, you can. Time heals everything. You'll forget, you will, I _know_ you will, then everything will be okay." Brennan couldn't help but notice that the man seemed to be trying to reassure himself more than her. "Tell me this- if he loved you, why did he go?" Brennan remained silent. "Tell me, _now_!"

"Because I betrayed him." Brennan whispered.

"What was that?"

"Because I betrayed him!"

Her edged words echoed through the room. Brennan kept her eyes focussed on the dark figure nervously.

"How?"

"What?"

"How, Temperance! _How_ did you betray him?"

Brennan looked down at her thighs. Her captors voice was thick with an impatient demand for answers, and the same underlying fury that had been so very present in his voice earlier. "He saw me. With another man."

"And that was what made him leave." The voice was suddenly laced with something else that sounded oddly like…satisfaction? Brennan, lost in her thoughts at such an inopportune time, barely noticed. Her gaze was still focussed down at her legs, through the dark.

"It didn't mean anything to me. It was just a mistake-"

Brennan couldn't have foreseen the reaction that was going to follow when she spoke these innocent words. Before she knew what was happening, her sudden reverie was broken as with a growl, the stranger flung himself towards her and seized her by the shoulders with such a force that Brennan knew her upper arms would be bruised later.

The man was breathing heavily against her face as he roughly yanked her up closer to his face. The ropes restraining Brennan cut painfully into her skin.

"It meant _nothing_ to you?" He spat. His rage terrified Brennan and she began to shake; his grip tightened, his nails digging into the flesh on her upper arms. Blood began to seep down her skin, through her sleeves.

"What kind of _slut_ does something like that? Years, _years_ of waiting, all that waiting, and then-" He stopped suddenly but his grip didn't loosen.

"Please-"

"Save your begging, bitch. You'll be needing it for later." He promised her vehemently. "So it meant nothing? It was just meant to be some harmless fuck and then you were going to forget it all happened, right?" He released one arm and reached round to grab a handful of her hair roughly. Brennan let out a groan of pain. " A harmless fuck, was that what it was?" There was a pause. He moved his face even closer to hers. "_Was that what I was_??"

Brennan struggled, but didn't reply. Things were falling into place in her mind at his words, with a dull, icy cold feeling of realisation. Booth's words, playing over in her head from her visit to France- _"Does he love you?" _followed by her immediate dismissal. Piece by piece, her fear, confusion and dread spreading like the ripples of a drop of scarlet in a bowl of milk, came together. Because she knew her captor was no stranger. She had been right to recognise his voice, and as a crack of light from the boarded up window shone in front of her, the shadows were banished and Brennan looked up to see a face, transformed with anger. She knew who she would see when she decided to look up but her fear was just as strong; she was looking up into the face of Martin. Her one time editor/ publisher, the man who had been her mistake was the man clutching her, the man making her arms bleed from his grip. Martin was her captor. Identifying the predator usually made her feel better; not in this case.

In one swift movement that Brennan could never have seen coming, and never have even hoped to prevent, Martin had flung out an arm with incredible force. It made contact with Brennan's face with a thump and she fell to the ground with a cry, chair and all. She was still bound, still trapped, lying cramped and uncomfortable on the hard cold concrete floor. Brennan couldn't help the sobs that leaked desperately from her mouth, as the pain from the punch washed over her in torrents. Before she knew what was happened, Martin had swung his leg into her ribs with a painful crack and Brennan was screaming uncontrollably now, as he kicked again, and _again-_

The pain was so intense she wanted to vomit, and beg for mercy; through the thick clouds of agony she knew this would be pointless. Begging openly for mercy would be no good. She was so tempted to let go, to beg for anything, for death, which would be preferable to this-

Suddenly, Martin was crouched beside her, hands on her arms again in a deadly grip. She could see something new in his eyes, a glint that terrified her. As she whimpered pathetically in pain, his hands, skilled and quick, were untying her, pulling her away from her prison and shoving away the chair. Brennan fell limp to the ground. She was free, but she couldn't fight back anymore.

Martin's breathing was heavy as he leaned over her.

"I said I was going to make you beg, didn't I?" He hissed, his eyes flashing. His hands fell to her stomach and she flinched with revulsion.

"Please-" Brennan began desperately, her voice ragged. "What are you doing?"

He looked up at her with a look devised of pure madness, a look that she would remember for the rest of her life.

"Haven't you worked it out yet? I'm going to finish what we started, Temperance."

Brennan, terrified but too tired to move, to even try to escape, shut her eyes as tightly as she could, as if she was trying to blot everything out, everything that had happened, and everything that the menacing voice was promising would happen very soon.

_This is it_, A small part of her registered, _this is the end_.

She could feel it coming. It spread like fog over her; suddenly, she wasn't dizzy with the unbelievable pain, she couldn't feel the pressure of Martin's hand on her stomach, or the sound of his voice. Numbness was taking over, black creeping up around her and threatening to swallow her.

She lingered between consciousness, and the darkness about to engulf her. She wasn't aware of anything anymore, it could have been happening to somebody else for all she knew. Even a few seconds later, as there was a large resounding crack that echoed through the damp dark room, she wasn't roused; even as Martin swore and left her, racing down the passage. She wasn't aware of the pause that followed, the struggle, or even the cries as her limp body was found, as she was scooped up into urgent hands.

* * *

When Brennan woke up, she was surrounded by white. If she was one of the more fanciful, romantic types, she would have gone through the "Am I in heaven?" scenario, but not Brennan. She had been in this situation enough times to know that her plain white surroundings meant that she was in hospital- that was no big puzzle. The only mystery was why she was in hospital. Her eyes flickered shut once again as she struggled to remember what exactly could have put her in this position this time.

Brennan tried to sit up, and cried out in pain. The agony was excruciating but she tried again, using her hand to prop herself up. The pain rushed through her in uncontrollable floods and she cried out once again, only this time, she didn't stop.

Through the pain, Brennan was only partially aware that there were people running into the room, nurses with trolleys. There was somebody there, with their hands steadying her, pushing her hair off her face, and soothing her. She couldn't understand the words they were saying, but she couldn't help but feel safe.


	16. I've Missed This

**Ta-da!New chapter, and big big thanks for getting my past 200 reviews! Love you guys!**

**Apologies for any errors, as usual.**

**So here as promised is a long-ish chapter- hopefully you will all approve :D Please enjoy and review!!!**

* * *

When Brennan woke up for the second time, it was daytime; the sunlight was streaming in from the window onto her face, warming her skin. She stretched her toes as the tension in her calves eased off a little. She stared around her room. She was in hospital. She considered her pain and deduced quickly what her injuries were. The memories were still a little hazy, but she knew enough.

**She glanced down and jumped in surprise. Sat in the chair beside her, slumped forward in slumber was Booth. _Here_. In Washington (providing that was where the hospital was). Brennan frowned in confusion. She wanted to wake him, but found she couldn't. She would have to wait. He owed her a lot of answers.**

* * *

"I can't _believe_ you were all snooping around my back!" Brennan cried out. Booth looked down at the ground. " _All_ of you!"

"It wasn't _all _of us, okay?" He told her calmly. "It was just me, and Angela." He paused. "And Cam. And Hodgins, once. And Cullen."

"Cullen?" Brennan repeated loudly. " What does Cullen have to do with me?"

"He, er, let me know that you weren't doing field-work anymore."

Brennan exhaled in exasperation. "So Angela, and Cam and Hodgins, they all knew you were…_spying_ on me, and they just _helped_ you?" She winced and lifted a hand to her side. Booth immediately took a step closer to her, but Brennan gave him such a glare that he halted suddenly. "Well?"

"I wasn't spying." Booth replied. Brennan snorted.

"Talking to my collegues and my boss, posing as a moderator on one of my chat rooms- !" Brennan lifted her bandaged hand to her head, and covered part of her face. Booth watched her worriedly. He was about to go to her, when she spoke again. "How did you know it was Martin? How did you know that he was…?"

Booth sat down carefully on the chair beside her bed. "After I saw - after I left I did a background check on him. He was arrested in 2004 for the suspected rape and murder of two underage girls he met online, but they didn't have enough evidence. I got the results back about a week after I found out you were on the dating site."

Brennan avoided Booth's gaze at the last part of his sentence. "And you just put two and two together?"

Booth sighed and Brennan raised her eyebrows. He sighed again, leaned forward and began to talk.

"Firstly, I became a moderator, you already know that-"

"Which one?"

"What do you mean?"

"Which moderator?" Brennan repeated, "There were a few. Which one were you?"

"_**Snakes_Eyes**_."

Brennan let out something that was between a sigh and a laugh. "The quiet one who never spoke or interfered? That was you? Was it supposed to be ironic?" Booth ignored the dig and continued.

"Angela told me about one guy you were talking to in particular." Booth stopped, and his eyes bore into Brennan's. "Leylan-"

"-Was Martin, I already know that part." Brennan interrupted uncomfortably. "So you just guessed it was him?"

"I joined the site when Angela told me you were on there." Booth told Brennan, steadily avoiding her gaze. When he spoke, Brennan frowned.

"Why?"

Booth rolled his eyes, and opened his mouth to speak, but soon shut it again. He considered his words, and tried again. "You haven't had the best of luck with those kinds of things in the past, Brennan. I was just looking out for you, and joining the site was the only way I could do that. I mean, I knew you weren't going to just quit going on the site, right?"

"Maybe, if you'd have approached me-" Brennan stopped suddenly as everything fell into place. " That was what made Angela change her opinions so suddenly. It was you. _Interfering_."

"I knew you wouldn't listen if I asked you, so I just asked Angela to have a word-"

"You _asked_ her?"

Booth paused. " _Demanded_, really. I did my homework, y'know. The site got the computer's location and I tracked it to Martin. I was already on my way here and she guessed you were going to meet the guy so I had to get here fast. I should have known that you were too stubborn to listen to her. " There was a pause. " I should have come back and told you myself."

Brennan looked down at her hands and silence filled the room. Booth cleared his throat awkwardly. "An officer's going to come in and get a statement off you. Martin's in custody, and he's staying there, don't worry about that. I've told them you need your rest, so they're going to keep it short."

"What about you? " Brennan asked. " When are you-?"

"I'm going to stick around for a few days. My flight is on Thursday, so-"

Brennan nodded. "That seems wise." Booth looked across at her quickly. Brennan hastened to continue. "I mean, the longer you stay here, the more work you're missing, surely? And Parker."

"And Parker." Booth echoed with a nod. There was another long silence. How could he forget?

* * *

The first night, he was allowed to stay with her. He sat in the chair and watched her as she "slept", her back to him. She knew he was under the impression that she was asleep; he was sorely mistaken. How could she sleep? Every inch of her ached, and _he _was _here_. Booth was sat beside her. _How could she sleep?_

It was about ten o'clock when she spoke over her shoulder.

"Booth?" She had wondered whether he had fallen asleep, but he replied seconds after. "Brennan?"

"I feel so bad about what happened." Brennan told him quietly. Booth knew she wasn't talking about the more recent events.

"I know you're hurting. If it makes you feel any better, I was hurting too."

Brennan glanced back over her shoulder, but didn't roll over. She could feel Booth's eyes boring into her back. "I know that. And I know it's my fault. I can't even bear to look at you."

Booth's eyes didn't move once from Brennan. Hand clutching his shoulder he got to his feet, and walked to her, sinking onto her bed beside her. Brennan tensed up as she felt the bed sink slightly underneath his weight. Booth reached out a tentative hand and rested it on the exposed back of neck. When he spoke, his voice was painfully quiet, a desperate whisper. It was like the stress of the last few days had stripped him to the core, and he couldn't hide his feelings anymore. "Please-please-"

He didn't finish his sentence. Brennan froze. Part of her wanted to roll over and hug him, the other wanted him to leave the hospital room as quickly as possible. Instead, she chose to stay where she was, lying motionless. Booth was as silent as she was, and after a moment, the moment passed. Brennan's shoulder ached as she hunched over. Her entire body was tense, and she was struck once again by how unreal the entire situation was.

* * *

"So this is it? You're going?" Brennan asked quietly. Booth nodded and looked down at his feet. He swallowed and pulled a ticket out of his pocket, waving it.

"This afternoon. I've got to be there at two o'clock." He paced slightly. Brennan shifted uncomfortably at her desk and Booth looked up at her. "I just wanted to…come see if you were okay. Y'know, I heard you were discharged on Tuesday and I didn't want you to think-"

Brennan shook off his words carelessly. "I know you're busy Booth, forget it."

"And you're okay?"

"I'm fine. A little bit bruised, but my injuries are virtually painless."

Booth sighed in relief. "So you're okay?"

Brennan nodded. "I'm fine, really. I'm working, aren't I?"

Booth raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, because you _never_ work if you aren't 100% okay, right?"

Brennan bit her lip. "Don't worry, I'm honestly fine, Booth. What about you, are you okay? Your shoulder….?"

"It's fine. Now who's the one worrying. For no reason?"

"You saved my life, Booth, I have reason to worry."

"Shouldn't I be the one who gets to worry then?" Booth joked, and Brennan suddenly felt the warm familiar rush of their bickering wash over her and cover her like a blanket. She would miss this, when he was gone. As soon as she thought that then the warmth was gone, and in that second, the tiny pointless hope that he might have been staying was well and truly demolished and Booth was a mere visitor in her life once again.

"Thank you for that- I-I mean I know it wasn't a big deal-"`

"Yes, it was." Booth said quietly. Brennan rolled her eyes.

"Are you still blaming yourself?" There was no reply but his silence said enough. "Well, don't. It's pointless. Blaming yourself won't change anything, and it's not like it's your fault. What could you have done to change the outcome of what happened?"

Booth pushed his hands through his hair. "I could have done plenty and we both know it. Angela almost said as much at the hospital-"

Brennan flushed. "She was just upset, I'm sure she regrets it now."

Booth sighed. " She isn't the only one regretting something. She was right. I could have done more."

"Please don't Booth. If you feel guilty, then I feel guilty." Her face was suddenly niggled with doubt. " Or…do you want me to feel guilty?"

"God, no, Brennan, don't even think that! I just...I just want you." Booth swallowed, and lifted a hand to his head. "- To be okay. I just want you to be okay. I can't go….unless I know you're okay. So please, if there is anything wrong , or anything that you need tell me now."

Brennan practically had to bite her tongue but she restrained herself from saying the words that for some reason were itching to be released. "No, that won't be necessary, Booth. I'm fine, I don't need anything." Booth nodded, but didn't look at all reassured. He forced a smile onto his face.

"I've liked this." He confessed quietly. Brennan looked up in surprise. "Y'know, you and me, spending time together…"

Brennan nodded. "I know what you mean. It's been good, Booth."

"Like old times." Brennan exhaled. "_Old times_" were only a distant memory now.

Brennan coughed. Booth shook himself back to reality.

"Look, Booth, I meant to ask you, only I never really found the right time." Booth looked at the woman in front of him as she shifted uncomfortably underneath his gaze. "I just assumed you had but I didn't really let it all go on a mere presumption so-"

"Brennan- you're babbling." Brennan stopped, breathless and Booth stifled a chuckle.

"Sorry." She said hastily. " I'll get to the point." Deep breath. " Did you get it?"

There was a pause. Booth frowned. "Did I get _what_?"

Realisation spread over Brennan's features, and she experienced relief and a slight hint of disappointment all at once. "Nothing." She felt her face flushing and wished she had never mentioned anything. "It's nothing, really."

"It can't just be nothing." Booth probed. Brennan shook her head.

"No, really. It's nothing, honestly. Don't worry about it. What time did you say your flight is?"

Booth paused for a minute and Brennan thought that he wasn't going to let her blatant veering into another topic rest, but he straightened up and said, " I have to be there for two o'clock. "

Brennan looked down at her desk shyly, then back at Booth.

"If you…wouldn't mind….I'd like to come and say goodbye to you. At the airport. If you wouldn't mind." Booth didn't reply, and Brennan immediately took his silence negatively. "Or, I could just say goodbye here. If you'd prefer."

"No! No, that's…well that's great, yeah. Sure, if you wouldn't mind."

Brennan let out a nervous laugh. "Okay. I'll, erm, take you in my car. So you don't have to worry about transport."

Booth nodded, although transport was really the least of his worries. "Great. Thanks, Brennan. I really appreciate it."

Brennan waved this away. "Don't worry about it. I'll pick you up from your hotel at about three, is that okay?"

Booth nodded, and walked reluctantly towards the door. "It's a date."

The words tasted bitter and left him with a feeling of longing. He had got her back, even if it was for a limited length of time, even if it was under dangerous circumstances. And now, they would be separated all over again. But what could he do?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

* * *

The drive to the airport was silent and awkward. The tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Brennan had let Booth drive, so it really did bring back old memories. If only this was any other day, from somewhere around last year. They could still be working, or going to the diner. Never in a million years would Brennan have ever imagined last year that she would be in this position. Ever.

The arrived at the airport all too soon. Booth spent more time than needed trying to find a suitable parking place, hands gripping the wheel. He was trying to delay the inevitable, but it wouldn't work. This was it.

They walked in together, Booth pulling his suitcase along with him, and Brennan following him slowly. In some ways, the sombre atmosphere reminded her of a funeral procession.

They arrived at the check in lounge. Booth turned to Brennan slowly.

"Maybe we should-" He began awkwardly. Brennan nodded.

"You're right." She smiled. _How to say goodbye? _Shaking hands was too formal…before she could muse over it any more, Booth was pulling her into a hug. Brennan buried her face into Booth's chest and inhaled in his smell. She felt so safe like this, with his arms around her, and hers around him. She felt…happy. _Complete_. Booth was the missing part of her, and now she had to let him go all over again. Booth pulled away slowly , but held her close to him , lowering his face and speaking quietly. "Okay?"

Brennan nodded. "I'm fine." She tried and failed to smile. "I'm just going to miss you."

Booth trailed his thumb gently underneath her eye with a soft smile. "It's okay." His fingers fell to the dark bruise on her chin and he gently tilted her face up to look at him properly. "Whenever you need me… I'm here. Okay? Promise me."

Brennan nodded. "I promise, Booth." He nodded, satisfied, and then there was a silence. The voice on the tannoy calling out flight times began to blare, and it made both of them jump. Booth glanced over at the gate and then back down at the woman in front of him regretfully.

Brennan saw his hesitation. Slowly, gently, she reached up and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Savouring the taste of his skin, she paused then pulled away.

"I promise." She repeated and swallowed. " Now go. You're going to miss your flight."

Booth nodded, and stared at her one last time intently. Brennan watched in silence as he took his suitcase, and wheeled it to the gate. As he handed over his passport, he turned back to her, and Brennan waved. Booth gave her his signature half smile and studied her as if committing her to memory. The next thing she knew, he was gone, and Brennan found herself staring at the closing doors.

* * *

Brennan drove home in silence, no radio, nothing. She drove the route automatically, like a robot, or somebody sleepwalking. Going through the motions.

Booth was gone, again. It only seemed like yesterday that she was waking up to find him beside her hospital bed, and now he had boarded his flight and left.

_But I got to say goodbye on good terms this time_, she thought to herself, and the knots in her stomach eased off a little, but only just. She still felt sick. Her mouth was bitter with all of the words she should have said. She found herself wondering what happened to her letter, the letter she had put her heart and soul into. She had thought originally he had simply chose not to reply to it, and now it appeared he had never even received it. Was this the truth? _Yes. Booth wouldn't lie to me about something like that._ She blushed as she pictured somebody else finding the letter and reading it. It was another burden for her now, something else she had to worry about. _Fantastic_.

As she turned round the corner and hit traffic, she found herself looking out of her window up at the sky, imagining Booth on the plane, arriving at home in many hours time. When would she see him again? Hear from him again?

Maybe this was it. Maybe she _wouldn't _see him again.

* * *

Booth stifled a yawn as he cleared away the breakfast plates. He would have to clean them when he got back, after he crashed for a few hours. He had only been home a few hours, but he still had Parker to look after, and hadn't had chance to properly sleep off his jet lag. He was yawning every five minutes- not that he really had the time.

"Parker! Come on, buddy, we're running late!"

Booth paused until he heard the rumble of footsteps from the spare bedroom. Seconds later, his son emerged, clasping a blue backpack.

Booth smiled at him. "You ready, bud?"

"Yeah, Dad."

"Got your backpack?"

"Yep."

"And your sports kit?"

"Uh-huh."

"Did your mom sign the trip letter for you?"

Parker paused thoughtfully for a second, then shook his head. Booth clapped his hands with a goofy grin and Parker giggled, reaching into his bag and pulling out a thick sheaf of papers.

"Woah, buddy. I gotta sign all of this?" Booth joked. Parker walked over to the table and began sorting through the papers. "What is all this?"

His son shrugged. "I don't know. Look, Daddy, this one is to you. And this one." Booth reached over and took the letters, flicking through them.

"Oh yeah. Your work must have got mixed up with my stuff last time you were visiting, huh?"

"Sorry, Daddy."

Booth ruffled his sons hair. "It's ok, pal, it's not anything important."

"Grandpa Max shouts when I move his letters."

Booth frowned distractedly, still looking through the letters. "Yeah, well I'm not Grandpa Max, am I buddy? And if he shouts at you, you just-"

Booth paused. Noting the silence, Parker looked up expectantly. "Daddy? " Booth didn't look up from the envelope on the top of pile. "Daddy!" Booth glanced up distractedly.

"What's up, buddy?"

"You need to sign my letter. And we're going to be late."

Booth snapped himself out of his trance, tossing the other letters onto the table but keeping the one that had fascinated him so much. He stared at it for a minute or so more, before carefully slipping it into his back pocket. For the benefit of his son, he plastered on a fake smile and began to usher Parker towards the door. "C'mon, bud. I'll sign your letter when we arrive. Lets get you to school."

Half an hour later, Booth arrived back at his apartment. He went through the motions, trying to prolong the inevitable. He had recognised the handwriting on the front of the envelope as soon as he had seen it; this letter was from Temperance Brennan.

Sighing, he sat down at the table and held the letter like it was a golden ingot; at the same time, though, he was dreading what it may contain. He had only been back less than 24 hours and now a letter from her? It had to be an old letter, obviously, but how old? How long had it been in Parker's bag?

Without delaying it with any more pointless question, Booth tore open the envelope and pulled out the piece of paper; another smaller, messier piece drifted out and fell to the table. Booth noted it, but focussed on the larger, neater piece.

It took him three minutes to read it, another three to go over it, and another three which he spent, slack-jawed in shock. It was only as he re-read the letter one last time, that he realised that there was more on the other sheet. He picked it up and began to read; nothing could have prepared him for what was coming

_To whomever this may concern,_

_I have never written a letter like this, and I doubt that I will ever have to again , because this is a letter of goodbye. I should remain optimistic, and keep trusting that Hodgins and I will be rescued, but if I have learnt anything in my lifetime, it is that nothing is certain. I would like to say that I have no worries that I am being brave and that I know everything will be alright, but I have never been a good liar. I cannot say I know I will be alright because I don't. I think that I might die in this car. I haven't considered my death much, which is odd as I have faced death so many times in my line of work, but I never thought my death would be like this._

_I don't know if you will read this, Russ, or whether Dad will ever read this either, but I have to say that I understand everything you have done, and I love you. It is hard for me to say anything else, but please know that- I love you._

_Hodgins is saying goodbye in his letter, and I already know who he is saying goodbye to. Angela, if you are reading this, and it is too late for Hodgins to tell you himself, he loved you . A lot. Before you worry that this is a guess down to my less than perfect emotional deduction skills, he told me himself. He will probably have covered this in his letter but…just in case. Angela, you are the best friend I have ever had, and I care for you as though you are my sister. You are an amazing person and an amazing artist, and I am so proud of you. You aren't like us; you are the heart of the team, and you feel things so much more than we do, but you still find the strength to continue with your job. When I think about how many people you have helped, including me at times, I feel a little better at facing the prospect of never seeing you again. Please, look after Zack; he is a brilliant student, and he will be a brilliant anthropologist. Tell him I have faith in him, and tell him that I am very proud of him too._

_And Cam- I haven't known you for as long as I have known the others, but do respect you. There isn't much I can say, but I have never been a very emotional person, and I don't think it will matter much._

_And now, at the very end, as I am running out of paper- Booth. I hope you never have to read this, and a small part of me is still sure that you will never need to, because that part of me completely trusts you. I don't think I have ever trusted anybody as much as I trust you. You are my partner and my best friend, and sometimes I think you could be more. This is very hard for me to explain but I feel I have to, in case you do end up reading this. Firstly, if you are reading this, please do not blame yourself. I know that you would have done everything you could have done, and I do not blame you now. I have never blamed you._

_I know I make mistakes, and I say stupid things, and upset and insult you, but you are the most important thing in my life. You are my constant; you are always there when I need you, and even when I don't need you. Sometimes I don't just need you there…sometimes I want you there, because you make me so happy. It's…different to how it is with Hodgins, or Zach. I truly can't explain it but when I'm with you everything changes. I feel like I should be telling you the full truth, but I don't know the full truth, I don't understand it. I should, because I have thought about it often enough. I don't know if you have ever felt the same and I felt guilty for springing this on you, because it just feels unfair._

_But if I wasn't judging and calculating I would have to face up to it. I care about you but not like I care about Hodgins; it seems more than that. _

_I don't know how to say what I want to say, it's just all so incredibly awkward; the words are there, and I think they've been there for a while, but it's so infantile. It's like I can't get the words out, yet I'm so painfully aware of their presence._

_It's even harder for me to admit to you that I might be feeling something that I don't even believe in myself. Or at least I never thought that I believed in any of these things, these stupid "love" things. How could I have thought that, when I've seen so many examples of this? I'm watching Hodgins now, staring at a bottle of ridiculously priced perfume that he bought for Angela and it's suddenly it's come to me, just how much he loves her. Really loves her. And now I'm feeling the niggling doubt that maybe I was wrong, Booth? Maybe love isn't all just chemicals and hormones, maybe it's something more?_

_I'm not saying that I do certainly and definitely believe that love is a real thing. I'm not one of those people, and I don't think I have the right to claim to know something I haven't experienced a lot of. But if I did have to-oh I don't know, everything I think about writing seems so inappropriate. No, I have to say this. I really have to._

_If I had to label the relationship between us I think that it comes quite close. You know, to all the love stuff._

_If you're reading this, you're either feeling guilty or shocked. If somehow I don't die here, then I don't think I will ever let you see this. No, I certainly won't. I've never been one of those people who can so easily cast around their feelings. It's stupid but it seems so much harder for me. I can't read through this letter; it is so unsure and pathetic. _

_But honestly? Every word is true. Even though it doesn't make sense. _

_I've run out of space. Time to go._

Booth scanned down the letter, his eyes growing wider by the second as he took in the words once again. He had read Brennan's books, and he knew how excellent she was at writing, but he had never read an example of her work that was so…personal, so open. He could so easily imagine her, hunched up in her dim car, scrawling a letter on a couple of pieces of paper torn from her book as Hodgins sat in the back seat. She couldn't have had much time, and he could tell she was scared.

He scanned through the letter one more time, and again. Each time the words seem to unfold whole new meanings inside him, spreading across his brain and almost paralysing him with the shock of them. He couldn't really believe he was here, reading this, and the contents of the letter bemused him even more.

Everything after that seemed to move so fast. One minute he was sat at the table, staring at the two pieces of paper, and the next they were flat on the surface, and he was on the phone, calling Rebecca, calling the airport, and calling work. In fifteen minutes, in a whirlwind spurred on simply from the contents of the two letters, Booth had grabbed his not yet unpacked bag, and his passport, and was heading for the airport at lightning speeds, only six hours after leaving the place.

* * *

_Brennan was sat, curled up on the couch in her apartment, the TV blaring pointlessly away. Her hands were curled around the cool glass of wine she had yet to drink, and the light from the small lamps around the room shone over her face. _

_Brennan was lost in her thoughts, mulling over the events of the past few days when there was a knocking at the door. She was tempted to ignore it, but it was a firm and insistent knocking, and so she wearily got to her feet, her body aching and padded over to the door._

_She opened it carefully, and stared at the person revealed. _

_"Booth?" Brennan was clearly shocked, but his name was the only word she spoke, because mere seconds later, with a bright, determined glint in his eyes, Booth's hands were cupping Brennan's cheeks, and pushing her into the nearest wall. As soon as her back met the wall, Brennan opened her mouth to speak, but it was captured languidly in a heartbeat by Booth's soft, but urgent lips, pressing against her. Before she knew what was happening, she was kissing him back just as fiercely. Booth groaned as Brennan's hand snaked up around his neck to pull him closer into the embrace. She should have stopped and asked all of the questions that were burning inside of her, but his kiss eased this urge; instead, her hands went to his face, and she arched against him as his fingers found the small of her back._


	17. You be my constant, I'll be Yours

**Hello earthlings! Just a short update- short but hopefully sweet!**

**Although it might seem like everything is resolved, I still have some tricks up my sleeve, so please don't stop reading…you never know, one of the characters could still die tragically! :P I'm just saying.**

**Thank you so much for the response to this story, which has been amazing- I've been reading through all of the reviews for all of the chapters, and most of them are really positive, so thank you to everyone who has been so kind! There are very few negative reviews…less than that. Just a couple, really, which is cool. To everyone who has reviewed recently- basically since my last update on any chapter- then I've replied to your very kind reviews. Probably.**

**One more thing- not really wanting to draw attention to it because it isn't that important tbh, but if you have a problem with something, or want to ask something/ offer advice (other than "Book yourself into a clinic, weirdo!"-please PM me instead of reviewing, because I'm a lot more likely to reply. So if you have questions, etc, that require a proper answer, PM me! I really like feedback.**

**Of course, there are some occasions where I prefer this option for other reasons. Lets not go into it :P**

**Enjoy!**

Temperance Brennan was a woman who had to understand things. This related to everything from her personal life, to her job. She felt much better knowing that she was fully aware of all of the details, and often she would go to great lengths to fill in the blanks.

Some people might have called it OCD; she preferred to call it a basic necessity.

Not knowing something was sure to annoy her. Often, she would be unable to concentrate properly until she knew everything ; even if she put it to the back of her mind and tried to forget about it, it was still there, and the intensity of the puzzle would bother her greatly.

The same applied to the very situation Brennan found herself in now, one Friday. It was 6:00 O'clock in the morning; light was beginning to streak into the room through the black metal shades covering the window, and they illuminated the room with their early morning glow.

The room was filled with a peaceful silence. Brennan lay awake and listened. She could hear a clock ticking, the buzz of the traffic far below, and the rustle of sheets as she stretched her legs. Carefully, she propped herself up on one elbow. She made sure that she was properly covered before she turned to look at the man that lay beside her.

Booth was sleeping, flat on his back. Brennan watched him and a small soft small crept onto her face. He looked so peaceful and happy, like he was dreaming good dreams. Brennan, too, hadn't had entirely bad dreams, which made a clear difference from her dreams of the last few weeks. She reached out a hand and traced it down the bridge of Booth's nose, just to prove to herself that she wasn't dreaming; Booth really was here. His skin was warm underneath her fingertips and it struck Brennan how bizarre this situation was. Booth was _here_. _In her bed_. And they had slept together. They had made love. A lot. Brennan bit her lip. Made love? Yes. That was what it had been, not just sex. They had made _love_. As usual, it had made her feel amazing. But accepting it made her feel even better; _making love_.

But this wasn't the fairytale- what fairytale was as highly-rated as their night had been, anyway? The handsome prince had returned to the princess, and what- she was just supposed to dreamily watch him for hour after hour? No. This was real life. This was _Brennan's _life, to be more specific, and she had questions that needed to be answered. Lots and lots of questions, that were burning away in the back of her mind, growing in intensity for every minute that she tried to restrain them. She needed answers, and she needed them soon.

_Now._

"Why didn't you wake me?" Brennan jumped, startled at the voice of the man beside her whom she had thought was asleep. Booth opened his eyes lazily and a smile spread slowly across his face.

"You okay?" He asked quietly. Brennan nodded.

"I love you." Booth said and Brennan settled into him, turning her head to face him, and looking into his eyes.

"I love you too." She told him, and softly traced her finger down the bridge of his nose. Booth closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling, however small, of her skin making contact with his. The laugh on Brennan's face faded into a small smile as she traced her finger fully down the bridge of his nose, and softly touched his lips. Booth opened his eyes and for a moment, they just stared at each other.

"Why are you here, Booth?" Brennan asked, then quickly hurried to explain herself. "I mean, obviously I'm not displeased with your presence, but I think I need to know. I saw you leave at the airport."

"I got your letter."

Brennan felt her cheeks flush crimson. "Oh." She flopped back down onto the pillow and stared stubbornly at the ceiling. Booth watched her and quietly took her hand in his. He rubbed his thumb over her soft skin reassuringly and brought their entwined fingers up to his mouth. Brennan exhaled as he cupped her face gently in one hand.

"It's okay." Booth reassured her softly. "I know how hard that must have been for you to write."

"Writing it was easy compared to sending it." Brennan said nervously. Booth studied her quietly.

"When did you send it?"

"A few weeks back, I think." Brennan confessed. "I waited. But I just assumed you weren't interested in what I had to say."

"Never."

"And then you turned up and it seemed like you didn't know anything about any letter."

"You could have told me."

"I had a lot of time to think whilst I was waiting for a reply. The longer I waited, the more I accepted it, in a way."

"Accepted what?"

"You. Being gone, not replying to my letter- I was just embarrassed, that's all. "

"Don't be." Booth took Brennan's hand. "I only got the letter when I got back the other day, it's…complicated. But as soon as I got it, I came back."

"You must be jet-lagged." Brennan remarked, relaxing as the topic seemed to subtly change.

"I've had rest."

"Well, you haven't whilst you've been here." Brennan reminded him with a laugh. Booth grinned and buried his face in her hair, inhaling the scent of apples and strawberries. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot. We haven't been doing much sleeping, have we?"

Brennan laughed.

He ran his hands softly over Brennan's stomach, and watched her shiver underneath his touch. A small smile crept onto his lips, until his fingers reached her ribs; then he remembered.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked suddenly. Brennan looked up at him, puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

"Did I hurt you? While we were…"

Brennan raised her eyebrows. "If you're doing it, Booth, you should be able to say it."

"Fine. While we were having amazing, mind blowing reunion sex, did I hurt you?"

Brennan stopped herself from giggling as she heard a tinge of worry in his voice. "I'm fine. I took some aspirin earlier, and anyway, I've dealt with worse injuries than this."

"Not anymore." Booth said quietly. "Not again."

Brennan panicked. "Why? Do you know something I don't? Is Cullen taking me out of field work?"

"I didn't mean that Bones." Brennan exhaled.

Booth rested his head in the soft valley where her shoulder and neck met, and pressed his lips against her perfect alabaster skin.

"Okay?"

"Yes." Brennan said. Booth knew that this was a lie, but didn't press. Instead, he hooked his hands around her and pulled her back to him. Brennan closed her eyes as their bodies properly made contact, and Booth whispered into her ear. "You, Doctor Brennan, are a terrible liar."

"I am not."

"You are. Y'know, it takes a certain knack- some have it, some don't- and Brennan, you don't."

Brennan nestled further into the pillow. "Nobody's ever found fault with my lying before, Booth."

Booth pulled the hair back from her neck and let his thumb edge down the plains of her face. His words were slightly muffled as he kissed her neck. "That's because nobody has ever known you like I do."

"I know." Brennan rolled over to face Booth and bit her lip. "Booth, what about Parker?"

"Is that what you're worrying about?" Brennan nodded.

"He's your son, I have no right to take you away from him."

"Yeah, because you're just one hell of a wanton seductress, aren't you, Bones."

"You're mind is in the gutter, Seeley Booth." Booth grinned and Brennan stopped. "What? Did I say it wrong?"

"No, you got it right, Bones." Booth assured her. "Momentarily distracted by the thought of you a wanton seductress, to tell the total truth." Brennan rolled her eyes. "Don't worry about it. I'll sort it all out."

"How can you honestly expect me not to think about it? Everything is so confusing."

"You're not in control and you hate it." Booth teased.

"You are the one with alpha-male tendencies, Booth, not me!" Brennan protested. "It's just…a little unsettling. Everything keeps changing, just as I get used to them. I wish things would be a little more reliable."

"They will be." Booth told her softly. "I promise. You be my constant and I'll be yours." He lifted his hand and stroked her hair carefully. "Okay?"

Brennan nodded, and relaxed slightly into his warm embrace.

"We still have a lot to talk about."

Brennan groaned. "I had a really bad feeling you were going to say that." She slumped back onto the pillow. "I understand the need to discuss everything but can't we just…not?"

"I know it's really tempting to just not talk about everything, Bones, but what chance do we have if we can't even talk about everything that's happened, good and bad?"

Brennan frowned worriedly. "What chance do we have if you're in Europe and I'm not, or we're together here and Parker is miserable?"

Booth smoothed down her hair soothingly. "Tonight. You and me, dinner, eight o'clock. We'll talk about…everything. Okay? Trust me, Temperance."

"I trust you." Brennan said, almost automatically.

"We'll sort it all out, tonight, together. Until then-" He slid his hands around her waist and pulled her closer with a mischievous grin. "Allow me to distract you."


	18. URGENT AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi!

Very quick author's note but it's quite urgent because I really can't carry on the story without feedback from you guys.

I'm seriously considering rewriting the last few chapters; I think I wrote them at a bad time and they weren't what I had planned if I'm being honest. Part of me is considering sticking with what I've written, and the other is considering taking the last few chapters off and rewriting them.

I REALLY cannot decide- so I'm going to put a poll up about it and I need you all to vote on there, or review this note if you have any other ideas. If you've been reading this story, even if you've just been lurking and not reviewing, then I need all of you to vote/ tell me what you think so I can carry on ASAP.

Thanks! :P

x


	19. Time to Move on

**Yes, this is a very quick chapter but better than nothing!**

**Thank you so much for everyone who reviewed/ voted with their comments, and I agreed with most of them. In the end, I've decided not to rewrite the story but carry on.**

** However, I have realised that I can't carry on with this story forever...nothing to worry about yet, but it isn't going to be one of those stories with about 100 chapters. Any ideas how long I should carry on for? Anybody interested in a sequel?**

**Anyway, please don't stop reading- I'm not anywhere near finished yet, I'm just asking for ideas :P**

**Please check out my new story, The Trigger and let me know what you all think of it!**

**Hope you enjoy! XD**

* * *

Booth stood outside of Brennan's apartment, and knocked on the door. Whilst he was waiting for a reply, he adjusted his collar, and straightened his jacket. He had made an effort for tonight's dinner; black, formal jacket, black pants with a _sensible_ belt, and a plain white shirt, the top few buttons undone. No tie, but wearing one was something he often tried to avoid anyway. Booth finished making his collar neat, and stood patiently at the door. His fingers drummed a rhythm on the doorway. He reached out, and knocked again.

"Coming!" Brennan's voice emerged from inside the apartment, accompanied with the sound of footsteps. Seconds later, the door opened, and she waved him in with one hand, the other screwing a sparkling earring into her ear. Booth stepped into the apartment almost apprehensively, and watched as she disappeared into the bedroom.

Booth approached the bedroom slowly, casually, taking his time to look around the apartment.

"I won't be a second," He heard Brennan call, "Just make yourself at home, we can set off in a minute."

"It's fine. I got reservations for 8:30, is that okay?"

"Sounds good." Brennan remarked, as she emerged from the bedroom. She moved closer to Booth, and smiled at him. "You look nice."

Booth nodded. "And- wow - you look…_wow_."

Brennan gave a small smile, and picked up her jacket and bag from where they lay over the back of the couch. "That's good, right?"

Booth stared at her. "Yeah-yeah, that's good, Bones. It's really good. You look beautiful."

Brennan flushed a little, and shifted her eyes away from him for a few seconds. Seeing he had embarrassed her with his compliment, he clapped loudly and spoke brightly. "Okay, let's get going, Bones, okay?" With one hand on the small of her back, he guided her to the door, and down to the car.

* * *

"I ordered us a table at the back, that okay?"

Brennan nodded. "Very private."

Booth gripped the wheel and glanced quickly over at her. "Yeah. I know. We gotta talk."

Brennan looked over at him. "Still? I thought you might have changed your mind today."

"Nope! I don't forget that easy."

"Why did you have to drive? You know, Booth, that I'm an excellent driver."

"But this is my car."

"We could have taken mine. You _always_ drive."

"Because-" Booth glanced over at her again and stopped. "I see what you're doing."

"What am I doing?"

"Trying to change the subject, so I forget about this little chat we need to have."

"I am not!" Brennan said indignantly. She paused. "Is it working?"

Booth smiled, and turned a corner. "Y'know what, Bones, all you need to worry about is what you're going to order, and what lovely things you want us to talk about first."

Brennan sank into her seat, and sighed.

* * *

They arrived at the restaurant, and were ushered to their seats. Brennan was silent. Booth kept glancing up at her, checking her facial expression. It was only when their drinks arrived that Brennan spoke.

"Booth, is this really necessary?" Brennan said quietly. Booth swallowed his mouthful of scotch and leaned a little closer across the table.

"Well, yeah, Brennan it is."

"I just think it would be a lot easier if we just…started a new slate. Hanging onto the past won't allow either of us to be able to commit one hundred percent to this relationship."

"How can you expect me to commit to this relationship if we haven't even talked about anything that's happened?" He asked quietly. Brennan opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again. She looked down at her hands, then back at him.

"Really?"

"Really."

"And there's nothing I can say to make you change your mind?"

"Not likely." Booth chirped brightly, rubbing his hands together. "Do you think our food will take long? I'm starved!"

Brennan sipped her glass of wine, carefully. She sighed, but stayed where she was.

"Fine." She said. "What do you want to talk about first?"

Booth looked at her, suddenly quite serious. "How about the day I left?"

Brennan bit her lip and raised her eyebrows. "Well, I suppose that would be a realistic place to begin. But we've already talked about that, haven't we? Can't we just move on from that?"

"I know we did, but we still need to talk about it."

"Fine!" Brennan said loudly, raising her hands in defeat. "Fine! What exactly do you want to know, Booth?"

Booth cupped his drink in his hand and paused. "The word _"Why" _kinda comes to mind."

"I've told you all this-"

"So tell me again."

"It was a mistake, I was drunk, and you weren't there."

"I wasn't there, Bones, because I had left! If you wanted me there, you should have just said!"

"And you would have stayed?"

"Yeah, Bones, y'know, if you would've asked, I would've stayed." Brennan narrowed her eyes at him. She couldn't claim to be an expert with people, and understanding their emotions, but even she had heard the hesitation in his voice.

She leaned forward, and spoke quietly, never taking her eyes off of him. "Swear. Promise that you would have stayed." Booth didn't speak. Brennan's eyes flashed. "Swear on my life that you would have stayed if I would've asked, Booth."

There was a pause. Booth opened his mouth several times in an attempt to speak. No words came out. Brennan raised her eyebrows pointedly.

"I'd say I just got my answer." She said softly. Booth ran his fingers roughly through his hair.

"I am not swearing on your life, Brennan. That's like asking me to swear on Parker's life. I can't swear, because I don't know what would've happened. I was waiting for you to say something, and I guess it didn't matter much to you, because- nothing!"

"Instead of just playing infantile games, Booth, maybe you should have just asked me!"

"How could I?!" Booth hissed. A waiter walking past, laden with plates, threw them a wary look, and Booth waited until he had fully passed before continuing in the same low, dangerous voice. "I barely even saw you before I left!"

"Maybe I didn't want to see you." Brennan told him simply. "Maybe the thought of you leaving just didn't actually bother me that much."

Booth, who had been taking a drink of his Scotch, snorted, loudly. "Right. Of course."

"Maybe it's true!" Brennan said indignantly.

"Swear, Brennan. Come on, we're playing your game now. Swear on my life that you were fine with me leaving."

Brennan looked down at her hands. "I was fine with you leaving." She echoed, but purposefully missed out any mention of Booths life.

"Oh come on, Brennan, I'm trained to spot a liar on sight!"

"Did you see that Martin was a liar the first time you saw him?" Brennan asked carefully. Booth smirked.

"Don't try and turn this back around on me, Brennan. We aren't talking about me-"

"Why not? Isn't it my turn to start asking you questions?"

"When you'll already know all the answers? Fine. Go ahead."

"Okay." Brennan put down her glass. "I don't understand why you're insisting that we talk about all of this stuff, when the topics you want to discuss have already been covered."

"You're wrong."

Brennan exhaled. "Fine. You want to talk about Martin? I've told you about Martin. I sent you that letter. You want to know why I didn't ask you to stay? You know that I didn't want to pull you away from Parker. Why did I avoid you before you left? Because just the thought of losing you was unlike anything I have ever felt before."

"Brennan-" Booth began weakly, but Brennan was climbing to her feet, and walking away.

* * *

Booth found her a few minutes later, sat at the bar, nursing a glass of whisky. Booth silently sat beside her and leaned towards her. "Our meals have arrived."

"I'm not hungry." Brennan downed half of the glass in one go, wincing slightly. Booth waved for another, another, and a second or so later he had his own drink. He stared into the contents thoughtfully before downing it in one gulp and pushing it away from him. Brennan watched him out of the corner of her eye, as he got to his feet slowly.

"Brennan." She ignored him. "_Temperance_. Please." Booth extended his hand, and Brennan stared at it. After a few seconds of hesitation, she took his hand, and with a small smile which he tried stubbornly to conceal, he guided her back to their table.

The main course had indeed arrived- mushroom and artichoke Risotto, with a mixed salad and grilled vegetables for Brennan, and the same for Booth, with the exception that he had chose the duck, instead. The plates were placed down in front of them, steaming hot, and with a small nod towards Brennan, Booth lifted his fork.

"What if I were to tell you I wanted you to go back to France?"

"Are you offering to come with me?"

"No."

"Then, y'know, I'd say it's complete bullshit."

Brennan looked indignant. "It isn't bullshit. I'm telling you to go, and be with your son!"

"No. No that's not what's going on here, and we both know it. You're asking me to go, because if I refuse, then you won't feel as guilty about keeping me here."

"Well, then, don't refuse." Brennan gritted her teeth in annoyance, but narrowed her eyes. "Go to France, Booth. Go and be with your little boy."

There was a silence.

"And if I did? What would happen? Would you visit me, call me, what?" Booth leaned in closer. "Or , y'know, would I come home in a few months to find you screwing around with Martin again?"

His angry words hung thick and prominent in the air, and Brennan's hand tightened their grip on her second glass of wine. Booth stared at her, and immediately felt guilty.

"I'm sorry, Bones, I never meant to say that-"

"Yes, you did, Booth." Brennan said stiffly. She pulled her glass of wine closer to her, and drained it in one gulp. "But you have a point, and I don't suppose I have any right to take the moral high ground."

Booth exhaled, and dragged his fingers over his face wearily. "Can- can we just forget the last half an hour of this conversation, d'you think? Please?"

"No. You were right, we need to talk about it." Brennan poured herself another glass of wine, and sipped it slowly. "So, is that the real reason you don't want to go back to France? You don't trust me on my own?"

"Believe it or not, Brennan, I don't want to leave, because I actually want to be with you."

"You don't trust me. " Brennan repeated slowly. Booth sighed. "Don't try to deny it Booth, I can see it in your eyes."

"I do trust you." Booth exhaled. " I just want to stay here. I didn't mean what I said about Martin, Bones. I'm sorry."

"So you've forgiven us both? Just like that?"

"Well, I've forgiven you. If I ever see Martin again, I'd probably have to hit him." Booth grinned cheekily. "But you know, that's life! Eat up!"

Brennan frowned. "You'd _hit_ him?"

"Uh-huh."

"But if you can forgive me, then why can't you forgive him?"

"I don't know the guy, Bones!" Brennan gave him a pointed glare. "You know what, it's just different."

"If you can't properly forgive him, then surely you can't have properly forgiven me." Brennan persisted. " So if you're angry with him, logically you're still angry with me."

"Except I'm not."

"But why-?!"

"Because-because people make mistakes, Bones, and I can forgive you because I love you, and because you've explained it to me. Okay?"

"But-"

"Y'know what, Brennan? This is one of those things you won't understand, okay? I forgive you because I want to. I'm not forgiving him because I don't."

"Why?"

"Because-I don't know, because of what he did!"

Brennan straightened up. "He didn't force me, Booth, you know that."

"But he didn't love you. Weird creepy obsesso stalker love doesn't count."

"Booth, it's a well-known fact that love doesn't often contribute nowadays towards the decision concerning whether or not to have sexual intercourse."

"Yeah, well, it matter to me, Brennan."

"So you've been in love with every single person you have ever slept with?"

Booth shrugged uncomfortably. _I should have listened to her_, he thought, _she was right. _He was really regretting his stubborn insistence that they discussed things. He had the burning feeling that this wasn't going to end well.

"Look, Bones, this isn't about me. This is about that psycho, coming on to you when he had no right-"

Brennan froze and raised her hand to interrupt. ""_No right_"? Why? You don't _own_ me, Booth. I refuse to let anybody objectify me and treat me like some kind of possession, even you. " Wow, she was really pissed off now, Booth acknowledged. _Damn._

Time to backtrack. "Look, Bones, I wasn't- why are even arguing over him? He was insane, he kidnapped you, and now he's rotting in jail where he belongs. Can't we just put this behind us now?"

"Booth, you were the one that wanted to talk in the first place!" Brennan reminded him indignantly. "If the only reason you're here is because you feel you have some kind of strange alpha-male _rights_ over me, than I would really rather you leave now."

"I don't, okay? I just…well, what if it had been the other way around? What if you would have been leaving and you came to my apartment and found me with, I don't know, Cam."

"That has happened before. I have watched you, knowing you were with Cam. And Rebecca. And Tessa."

"Yeah." Booth said quietly. "And did it bother you?"

Brennan shrugged carelessly. "Not really, Booth."

Booths eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Not at all?" Brennan nodded. "Really?"

" We weren't involved at the time, Booth."

"Okay, play along here, Bones. Imagine you found me, I don't know, making out with Rebecca when you came to France? Or you went into the lab and I was half-naked with Cam? Right now?"

Brennan looked at him silently. "But that wouldn't happen."

"And what makes you say that?"

"Because you don't love Cam, or Rebecca."

"But you didn't love Martin. Haven't I earned the right to make a mistake too?" Booth knew he was pushing her too far, but he didn't realise just how far until Brennan got to her feet, pushed some money towards him and grabbed her coat.

"Make your mistake, Booth, if that's what you want. You're right, you have earned it. I'll speak to you in the morning."

* * *

Brennan was stood outside the restaurant, shivering in the icy cold. It had only taken a minute for her to realise that they had come here in Booth's car, not hers, leaving her with no way home. What could she do? Go back inside? The talk with Booth was clearly going nowhere; best she left before one of them said something they would regret later, after all. Smart move in one way, stupid in another. How was she going to get home? There wasn't a cab in sight.

Brennan heard footsteps, and turned quickly; it was Booth.

He approached her silently. Brennan steadily ignored him, until he was right next to her. She glanced over at him, and despite her coat, which was admittedly thin, she shivered. She saw Booth frown, and before she knew it, he was pulling off his jacket and draping it around her shoulders. Brennan gave him a grateful half smile and breathed in his scent. Wearing his jacket felt like he was holding her, as she was surrounded in his warmth. She felt safe, even if her thoughts were in turmoil.

"I'm sorry."

Brennan looked over at him. "Don't be. It's not your fault."

Booth sighed and moved behind her. She felt his hands slipping around her waist and resting on her stomach. "It is. You were right. We need to move on."

"I was wrong. We needed to talk."

"And we have, haven't we? One stupid mistake isn't going to make me want my revenge. It's in the past. I don't want Cam, or Rebecca or any woman other than you, and I'm not leaving." He buried his face in her neck and tightened his hold. " I trust you. I can't help being possessive, because I love you so damn ?"

"What about Parker?"

Booth paused. "One year. We can work it out. I can have both of you in my life, can't I?"

Brennan tilted her head slightly and looked into Booth's eyes.

"Yeah. You can." Booth leaned to kiss her softly on the cheek and Brennan leaned back into him.

"Okay?" Booth asked. Brennan nodded.

"Let's go home." She could hear Booth smiling and warmth spread over her. Leaving one arm wrapped around her, they walked silently back to the car, and drove back to Brennan's apartment.

_Time to move on._


	20. AUTHOR'S NOTE YEAH,ANOTHER ONE

Very quick update just to check everyone who reviewed on the last chapter got the PM I sent them- Really sorry if it didn't work, I'm not too great at things like that, but I double checked and I got everyone.

The two people who weren't logged in couldn't get the message obviously, so really sorry :( but thanks for reviewing :D

And there was one person who had PM'ing disabled so if you want what was in the message just let me know if there's any other way I can get it to you.

For everyone who got the message- sorry! It was just a really last-minute random way of saying thanks for reviewing :) The idea got into my head and wouldn't leave so I just did it!Hope you enjoy/ don't think I'm mad and let me know what you all think! :P


	21. Let's Keep It That Way

"Bones."

"No."

"Bones,-"

"Booth! Would you please sit down, I'm not interested."

Booth raised his eyebrows cheekily. "That's not what you were saying last night, Doc." Brennan shot him a glare that would have reduced anybody else to silence; not Booth. He sat down on the edge of her desk and picked up a pen. Tossing it up in the air and swiftly catching it, he exhaled loudly.

"Come on, Bones, you called me over, there had to be something you wanted." He grinned. "Unless, of course, you just wanted me-"

"I called you over a professional matter, not a personal one." Brennan grumbled impatiently. "Cullen called this morning."

Booth looked slightly surprised. "Oh. I mean, he said he would but I didn't know it would be that soon-"

"When did he tell you this?"

"This morning. He called me into the office."

"But- you got your job back? Everything's okay regarding that aspect at least?"

"What do you mean, that aspect at least? Everything's okay, isn't it? We're okay, Parker's coming over next month- what else is wrong?"

Booth watched her, and became worried as Brennan looked down at her laptop keyboard and bit her lip." Brennan? What is it?"

Brennan sighed. "Cullen has been talking to people, and the people at the FBI are apparently unhappy with us working together."

There was a silence as Brennan's words sank in. Booth got to his feet, and, under Brennan's worried watch, ran his fingers through his hair.

"What people?" He asked. Brennan shrugged.

"I don't know, Booth. I didn't exactly think to ask for names."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should have done."

"Why does it matter who has concerns?"

"Why? It matters because I'm going to break their arms, that's why."

"Booth." Brennan spoke simply. He looked over at her. "Calm down. Getting violent isn't going to solve anything, is it?"

She got to her feet and walked around the desk, placing her hands on his shoulders reassuringly. "Nothing is for certain as of yet. Cullen says he's going to review the situation and try and remedy it."

"He better." Booth said darkly. He rubbed his chin, lost in thought. "Look, maybe I should go and have a word with him-"

"No." Brennan said stubbornly. "That would cause more trouble, and wouldn't help at all. The logical thing thing to do is just wait."

"Wait." Booth echoed. Brennan nodded. A small smile crept onto his face. Before Brennan knew what was happened, Booth had looped his hands around her waist and pulled her up against him. Brennan should have protested, and pushed him away, but it just felt so good, being pressed up against his warm body, that she didn't. Her hands moved up to the lapels of his jacket, as he smiled at her.

"Promise me you won't go to see Cullen." Booth rolled his eyes but Brennan widened her eyes pointedly and reluctantly he nodded. "Fine. I promise. As long as you promise not to worry about it."

"I'm not worrying about it-"

"You haven't improved your ability to lie, then, huh, Bones?"

Brennan looked down. Booth lifted his palm to cup her face, tilting her face up to look at him. When he spoke, his voice, whilst still retaining the amused, teasing tone, was softer, and couldn't help but soothe the agitated anthropologist.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have got so worked up. I was wrong;I mean, us not working together wouldn't change that much between us, would it?"

"I don't know." Brennan admitted. "I mean, we won't see as much of each other, and I wouldn't be able to carry on with field work-"

"Why not?"

Brennan thought about it for a minute. "I said this to Cullen when you were gone- I don't want to go out into the field with anybody but you."

"So you'll just stop going because we won't be working together?" Brennan shrugged. "But for whatever reason, you love going out into the field."

Brennan smiled. "But for whatever reason, I also love you. Odd, isn't it?"

"Was that a joke?" He grinned. Brennan nodded, amused. "Well, your lying still sucks, but your sense of humour has improved somewhat-"

"Shut up-" Brennan began, and Booth silenced her with a kiss. Brennan, once again forgetting about being professional, sank into the kiss, and cupped the back of his head in her hand, pulling him closer. As they kissed, Brennan felt Booth smile into her mouth, and pulled away ever so slightly.

"What?" She asked. Booth didn't reply, and his smile soon infected her. "What?"

"It's your sense of true dedication to being professional that I love most about you." His hold on her tightened, so when she tried to pull away, she was stopped. "Well...we don't have a case. You're free, I'm free for the next two hours...."

"Your point being...?"

Booth shrugged mischievously. "The door's got a lock on it, right?"

Brennan slapped Booth's arm and he grinned. "Well, if that's how you like it now, honey-"

Brennan pulled away from Booth and his teasing and walked back to her desk, smoothing down her shirt. "I am not having sex with you in my office, Booth."

"Wouldn't be the first time-"

"But the first time was the last time. It's never happening again. Now, isn't there something you could be doing?"

"Sorry, Mom." He paused. "Maybe I could have a word with Cam? She could put in a word for us."

Brennan panicked. "You aren't going to tell her about us, are you?"

"I thought you were okay with people knowing? Angela knows."

"Yes, and not an hour goes by without her demanding details on your performance-"

Booth looked alarmed. "Whoa, Bones!"

"Don't worry, I haven't told her anything."

Booth straightened up. "Good. Can we keep it that way?"

"Yes. Now go."

"You want to." Booth teased in a low voice. Brennan shot him a look and he turned and left, laughing as he went.


	22. Missed Calls and Bad News

"_He asked you_?"

There was no reply.

"Brennan!"

Brennan sighed, and slammed her hands down onto the table surface in frustration. It was always difficult to work when Angela was pestering her, but to use this piece of microscopic equipment, she needed peace, quiet, and steady hands. "Angela, I've got until three o'clock to get this finished, and the director stressed about thirty times in the space of an hour that if it wasn't finished, he would take his exhibit elsewhere. Now I don't want that, and neither does Cam, so please, can you give me some space?"

Angela rolled her eyes. "Director Curby? Of course he'll say that, but if you just flash a little cleavage and bat your eyelids..."

"How will exposing my breasts finish this piece?"

Angela smirked. "It won't, sweetie, but I guarantee he'll give you more time-"

"Firstly, Angela, I won't require any extra time if you back off for a little while and let me get on with my job. And secondly, Director Curby is a professional- I don't know what kind of people you've worked with previously, but he is a well respected surveyor-"

"Brennan, honey, I don't care how _"respected"_ he is. Okay, _"respected"_ just means that he's rich. And trust me, the only thing he's been surveying is your ass every time you walk away from him."

Brennan looked startled. "Are you sure?"

"Scout's Honour, sweetie."

"Oh." Brennan paused. "That is a little...well, maybe we shouldn't mention that in front of Booth. He can be a little strange about things like that." Brennan spotted the meaningful look Angela shot across at her. "Angela!"

"Brennan, honey, just answer my question and I will leave you to cater to the sad old man's every whim." Brennan nodded and Angela looked serious. "Did Booth really ask you to move in with him this morning?"

There was a pregnant pause. Eventually, with a loud sigh to show how annoyed she was that this was the only way she could have her office to herself, Brennan nodded.

Angela's face immediately softened.

"Please don't squeal- "Brennan said quickly. Angela waved this away.

"What did you say to him?"

"What do you mean?"

Another eye roll. "When he asked you to move in with him- what did you say?" Brennan looked guilty and Angela knew why. "_Nothing_? You said _nothing_? Sweetie, when he asked I think he _maybe_ might have wanted a response."

"_I know_."

"So what exactly did you do?"

Brennan pushed her hand through her hair. "I don't really know, Angela, it all happened so...quickly. We were just in the car going to work when he asked me, right of out the blue, he asked me. And I just sort of...didn't say anything."

"Look, sweetie. I've been through this. The important thing is that you overcome it. Okay?"

"So what do I do? Tell Booth I'll move in even though I don't think we're ready-"

"You are ready. " Angela assured her. "Maybe you can't see that, but I can, so trust me, okay?" Brennan nodded. "I want you to call Booth, and tell him that it's a big step, and you are thinking about it. "

"But-"

Angela waved her protests away. "Tell him you need a little time to get through some stuff, but it isn't a rejection. Then you need to work through this, right?"

"But I don't know...bones, and murders, and identification, that's what I do, Angela, that's what I _am_. I can't do any of this. I'm...I'm a brain, not a heart, you know that..."

"There's a heart in there, Brennan, I know there is. And that heart, _and _that brain, are both head over heels in love with Booth. But they're scared, right? They don't think this is the right time; it might ruin a really good relationship, and what for, if it can be avoided? That's it, right?"

Brennan nodded.

"Look, honey-" Angela got up of the couch. "I can't tell you what to do, this has to come from you. But- I was scared too, and I got over it. And you will too, if you stop and think about it. Yeah?"

Brennan nodded and smiled gratefully. "Yeah. Thanks, Angela. You've helped a lot."

Angela grinned. "That's what I do." She lifted her slim wrist and checked her watch. "Damn. I've got a whole pile of remains to give a face. I better get a move on. So good luck." She turned to leave, calling over her shoulder. "Don't forget to tell him!"

* * *

Brennan had arranged to meet Booth for dinner at the diner. She was sat, nervously waiting at their usual table, her hands cupping a hot cup of coffee, the only thing she had been in the mood for. Yes, it would make her jittery, but she already was anyway.

Lost in her thoughts, she jumped when she saw Booth approach the table, tie loosened off, tossing and catching his car keys as he walked over.

"Hey!" He greeted her brightly, leaning over and kissing her before he settled into the seat opposite. "Y'okay?"

"I'm fine. I didn't order for you, I wasn't sure what you wanted-"

"Can't be something too big," Booth told her, waving over a waitress, "Big meeting this afternoon. Possibly promotion-worthy."

"A promotion?" Brennan repeated.

"Uh-huh. Same job, a better title, that kind of thing." The waitress stood by his seat, and he quickly smiled at her. "Can I have a coffee and a slice of today's pie, please?" She scribbled down his order, let her eyes linger over him for a second longer and walked away, leaving Booth amused and Brennan ever so slightly annoyed.

"About this morning..." Brennan began. Booth looked up at her.

"No, it's okay. I'm sorry for springing it on you like that, I guess I should have eased into it." He chuckled. "You looked pretty surprised."

Brennan smiled slowly. " I think _"pretty surprised"_ is an understatement, if I'm being honest. " Brennan breathed deeply. "And that's what I want to be, with you. _Honest_, no matter what."

Booth's food and drink arrived, and he thanked the waitress as she set it down before him. He didn't begin eating, instead looking up at Brennan.

"Look. Brennan- I can understand why you don't want to. I can understand that for you, this is a pretty big deal. It is for me too. I shouldn't have just asked you like that, without any warning. I understand that you don't want to. I'm okay with it."

"No, I...I just need time. Please."

"Brennan, you don't have to ask. Just tell me."

"Booth..." She sighed. "I love you. Being with you is the best thing ever to have happened to me. Living with you, though....it's a big adjustment. But...I think, given time...that I'll want to. I don't know when, but...this isn't a no, Booth. This is a....a promise."

Booth smiled, and reached across for her hand. He took it gently. "I really love you."

"I know." There was a silence. Brennan checked her watch. "You better start eating. You don't want to miss your meeting."

Booth paused, as Brennan took a sip of coffee, as an idea, a growing urge manifested over him.

* * *

"Smithy! Hey, Smithy!" Booth hollered in a low hiss. He was calling to the short, chunky man by the water filter, trying to be as discreet as possible, tucked away in the doorway of his office. He checked his watch impatiently. The meeting started in an hour. It had to be now. "Smithy?"

Finally, the man heard, and Booth frantically beckoned him over. The agent looked alarmed, but he approached him, and was swiftly tugged into the office.

"Is this about what Keats was saying 'bout your lady friend? 'Cause I told him, Booth. It ain't my fault if he's a sick bastard."

"Well, he is a sick bastard, as sick as they come, and rest assured he will be dealt with later. But this has nothing to do with that rat." Booth exhaled deeply. "Are you going to this meeting?"

Smithy chuckled. "You kidding, Booth? Everyone who was invited is going to this meeting. Unless you haven't noticed the hype, it's kind of a big deal round here at the moment."

Booth waved him off. "Yeah, I got that. Look, buddy, I need you to do a favour for me."

"Name it."

Booth hesitated. "Right. Sure. I need to to tell Cullen I can't make the meeting."

Smithy's eyes widened. "No way. Are you mad? This meeting is serious shit, if you excuse my French. We're talking major promotions. Why the hell would anybody want to miss it?"

Booth shrugged. "I've got some things to do."

"Things that will take all afternoon?" Booth nodded. Smithy sighed. "Man, Booth, if I go into that meeting and tell Cullen you ain't gonna be there, he'll kill me. Literally. I actually want kids at some point in the future."

"Well, tell him right before you all go in. He can't get mad at you in front of the board."

"And lose my job? I don't know..."

"You won't lose your job." Booth assured him. "I'll make sure of it. If anything, he'll see how unprofessional I am and be impressed by the people that actually got of their asses and turned up. You'll be a shoo in anyway."

"Y'think?" Smithy asked. Booth nodded. "Fine. I'll do it. But you owe me."

Booth grinned, and hurried round to the other side of the desk, grabbing his wallet and his keys. "I do. I owe you big time buddy."

"Still don't get what's made you change your mind. You couldn't wait this morning."

"I know. But this is more important."

"I hope it's worth it. What could make you want to lose the chance of promotion?"

Booth smiled. "A very special, beautiful lady, with whom I plan to have a very special night."

"Well-" Smithy began, but he wasn't able to finish his sentence. The door swung open and a junior agent stuck his head round the corner.

"Ever heard of knocking?" Smithy demanded. The agent blushed and looked over at Booth.

"Everything okay?"

"Not really. Cullen wants you in his office, right now."

Booth froze. "Is he angry?"

The agent shrugged. "I don't know. I just know it's really serious."

"Shit." Booth cursed. "He must have found out somehow. Dammit."

Smithy looked at the young agent thoughtfully. "Right, kid. You go back to Cullen and tell him that you couldn't find Booth anywhere."

The agent looked scandalised. "But that would be a lie!"

"Preach later, kid. Just do it. Tell him you asked me, and I ain't seen Booth either. Right?" The agent nodded. "Good lad."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Last thing you need is to get pulled into the meeting when y'got stuff to do. Go get your lady stuff sorted, and don't get seen."

"I won't. Thanks, buddy. I owe you."

"Big time, you do. Go on."

* * *

Brennan sat at her desk, and checked her watch. Booth would be in his meeting now. She hoped it went well, but she wasn't going to let herself spend the rest of the day sat there waiting and worrying about him. Sighing, she got to her feet and walked onto the platform.

"Hey." Angela greeted her from her computer, as Brennan began to pull on some gloves.

"Everything okay?"

Angela rolled her eyes. "It's going slowly. You?"

Brennan laughed. "You were right about that guy with the exhibit. He said he was more than happy to give me an extension on the project...as long as I made it worth his while."

"Pervert." Angela shuddered. "I hope you told him where to get off-"

"Yeah, I could have. I'd also be unemployed if I had said that." Angela made a noise of annoyance. "Anyway, I'm free to help you now."

"Great!" Angela cast her eyes over a couple of interns on the other side of the platform and lowered her voice. "You had dinner with Booth, right? How did it go?"

Brennan smiled. "Okay. He said whenever I'm read is okay with him."

"See?" Angela replied, sounding satisfied, "Nothing to worry about."

Brennan's phone began to ring. She groaned, and cancelled the call.

"It might have been important."

"I really doubt it." Brennan showed Angela her call history. "See? The same number has called me about ten times in the last hour."

"So answer it."

"Unknown caller. My editor has told me to only answer calls from people I know, after-"

"-You become a stalker-magnet?"

"Uh-huh. It's a foreign number too, I think. I don't feel comfortable about taking any risks.

"So turn it off."

"I'm hoping Booth will call to tell me how he gets on in this big promotion meeting. It ends in a few hours."

"A few hours? Jeez. Those FBI guys sure can waffle a lot."

"I suppose so. I just know it's a big deal, and I have a bad feeling..."

Angela looked at her friend. "About Booth?" Brennan didn't reply. "He'll do fine, honey. Look at all the good you guys have done. They would be mad not to promote him, right?"

Brennan paused, but Angela nudged her. She smiled reluctantly. "I guess so. I'll just have to wait and see what I find out."

"And don't worry. He'll be fine." Brennan's phone rang again, and after checking the number, she swiftly cut it off again.

"Right!" She began, "What do you need help with?"

* * *

It was 5 O'clock. Booth's meeting was due to end any minute, and Brennan had just arrived at the FBI building. She planned to wait in Booth's office until he got out, and then maybe she could stop worrying. She had been worrying for most of the afternoon whilst she was helping Angela, until she had driven herself half mad. Eventually, she had to grab her car keys, and drive there, scaring poor Cam half to death in the meanwhile as she had rushed impatiently past her when she had come into her office to tell her she had a call. Maybe Cam was a bit angry at her storming out; she had called three times since Brennan had left the lab. She slipped the phone deep inside her pocket and turned it off.

The corridors were eerily quiet, compared to the buzz that usually lingered there. It seemed like all the agents were in this meeting, even now. _It should be ending any minute, _Brennan thought to herself_. I'll just wait in Booth's office._

She turned the corner, and walked slowly into Booth's office. It wasn't as empty as she expected.

"Cullen?"

The man sat at Booth's desk looked up and slammed down the phone. "Where the _hell_ have you been? I called your boss, and she's been calling and she says she couldn't get through to you, and your ass hole of a partner just took off even though I sent somebody to look for him, you people are like cockroaches!"

Brennan frowned. She couldn't help but feel confused.

"I thought you and Booth were in this big meeting?"

Cullen sighed loudly. "Booth isn't in the meeting because he apparently had things to do, _very_ professional by the way, and I've had to sit out of a crucial meeting to try and get in contact with the idiot."

"All of this because he missed a meeting?"

"This isn't about the meeting." Cullen growled. "Jesus, all of this could have been avoided if you and Booth just answered your god-damn cell phone's every once in a while." He got to his feet and paced, running his hands across his face. "I got a phone call this morning. I think it's best if Booth is told by somebody he knows well, I'm sure you will agree-"

"Cullen, please." Brennan said. "Just tell me what has happened."

* * *

Booth looked in the mirror before him with a quirked smile. He raised his eyebrows at his reflection in the mirror; a suit. And a tie. Very impressive.  
He walked quickly into the kitchen, and proceeded to fuss over the bubbling pans. He tasted the gravy, winced as he burnt his tongue, and added a pinch of mint. Cooking wasn't that hard (even if he did have the phone number of a good instant delivery-meals company on speed dial). True, he had three cookbooks displaying the exact same recipe at different points of the kitchen. Even then, he had begged Angela to simplify the directions into words he would understand, and gone shopping to buy equipment he had never even heard of, let alone seen.  
Still, it was going to be worth it. The smell filled up the kitchen, and although he would have preferred a meat-based dinner, it still smelled pretty damn good. And it wasn't for him anyway; all of this was for Brennan.  
After checking the contents of the oven were cooking steadily, he dug out a lighter from his pocket, and walked into the living room. Earlier, he had purchased scented candles, and placed them all around the room. He lit them, and inhaled as a few minutes later, their sweet scent began to fill up the room; they smelled like flowers, and strawberries. Booth walked around the room, shutting the blinds, neatening things, and generally fussing. This was most unlike him; he wasn't a typical slob, but he wasn't an OCD cleaner.  
But tonight was special.  
Booth brought the vase from the kitchen, and set it down. The deep crimson petals of the roses, and the beautiful green of the stems contrasted amazingly against the pale white tablecloth, already set with cutlery.  
The flowers were new, and hadn't been cheap; there were more in the bedroom, and the bathroom. He had made a list when he went out shopping but he hadn't stuck to it. In his nervous state, he had run wild in the shops. Angela would have been very amused, especially if she had seen how much all of this had set him back.  
It wasn't just the flowers, or the stuff for the meal, or the candles. Booth reached slowly into his pocket and pulled out a deep velvet box. He opened it, and stared at the ring. It glistened as he held the wedding band up to the light. His stomach was in knots. This simple ( albeit very expensive ring) meant so much. He pictured it on Brennan's finger and knew it was perfect.  
There were no guarantees though. None at all.  
The ring could change everything.  
If it had been a friend in this position, Booth would have cast proposing off as easy. Not now, not tonight. He felt exhilarated and sick at the same time.  
Tonight would be special. Tonight, no matter how it ended, would be a night to remember.  
In more ways than one.

Booth was startled by a firm knocking at the door. He paused, wedding band in his hand. He waited to see if the person knocking went away, but a few seconds later, the visitor knocked again, insistently. Sighing, Booth fumbled with the ring. When it was back in the box, in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he hurried towards the door as the knocking began once again.

"Okay, alright, I'm coming-" He called, undoing the latch and sliding the bolt to the right. He opened the door and found to his surprise, the one person who he was usually overjoyed to see, standing before him at the worst possible time.

"Hey!" He said loudly and slowly. Brennan looked up at him with a weary smile. She looked terrible; tired and a little bit upset; for a second, he thought he saw tears in her eyes, but he assumed that he must have been mistaken. Something, though, was definitely wrong.

Booth saw Brennan glance down at his attire in surprise, and he glanced back at the candle lit, romantic scene behind him. The night could still be saved, as long as she didn't see what he had planned. Carefully, he slipped out into the corridor, pulling the door halfway to conceal his secrets.

"Everything okay?"

"We need to talk."

Booth glanced at his watch._ When would the stuff in the oven be ready? He couldn't let it burn, could he?_

"Brennan, I don't know how to explain this but-"

"Booth, we _really_ need to talk-"

"I know, but this is kind of a bad time-"

Brennan sighed bitterly. "This is a terrible time. There's no right time for you to be told this, and you don't have the right person telling you, but I didn't want you to hear something like this from Cullen at the office tomorrow morning-"

Booth stopped her, resting his hand on her arm. He saw the distress in her face, and heard it echoed in her voice, and now he was worried. "Cullen?" He paused, his face falling. "Has he split us up? Are you getting a new partner? Because he promised me that-"

"Booth." Brennan stopped him. He stared at her. "It's worse than that."

Booth looked confused. "It's worse than us getting split up?"

There was a pause. Brennan nodded, swallowing. "A lot worse. Booth, maybe we should go in, you should be sitting down-"

"No-no, I don't need to sit down, just tell me now. " His panic was increasing with every prolonged second. "Please, Brennan. Whatever it is, please just tell me. "

Brennan looked down. "I don't know how to say it." A million and one things were rushing through Booth's mind. _It won't be as bad as it seems,_ he told himself, _It'll be something that she's been worrying about, but it won't be life-changing. _

Later on, he would remember this, and realise how terribly wrong he had been.

Brennan looked up, and spoke the words that would make this night one to remember, for reasons other than the one he had planned.

"It's Parker. And Rebecca." As soon as he heard his son's name, the icy cold fingers of terror began to creep all over his frozen body. "I'm so sorry, Booth. There's been an accident."


	23. Tokens of Love

**Greetings, people! First of all, HUGE apologies for the long absence - I hope you guys are all still willing to forgive and read on because there is a lot more to come…and I am 1 review away from 300 reviews! Naked Booth for the person who gets me to 300!…or, an early extract from the next chapter- only please write in your review if you are the fabulous 300****th**** review-y person, so I know for sure who to send it to! **

**Only a couple more things to say - the usual apologies for any errors that might sneak through…from now on, the maximum gap between each update will be about a week but providing you are all lovely and review, in the next couple of weeks I should be able to update a lot more!**

**And secondly…please don't be very very critical of this…I haven't even looked at this fan fiction in ages, so if there are things that aren't consistent, or you are bothered because they are OOC, I know. I've got to get used to writing this again and then hopefully it should be okay! **

**One little last thing…I know this must be the most annoying thing to hear, but I'm going to say it anyway. Although I haven't been writing for this account, I have been posting on my other account and the same thing has popped up for me and loads of other writers.**

**This story is one of my most popular stories, but since I started writing it, the same thing that has happened many times before, to me and other writers, is happening again. **

**I'll show you what I mean.**

**Hits- **_**69,929**_

**Alerts- **_**222**_

**Reviews-**_**299**_

**Anyone spotting the problem? 222 people reading each chapter…and 299 reviews over all. I'm not saying that I want all 222 of you to review on every single chapter, but I bet there are some people on my alert list that have never even reviewed once, whilst there are some people that review on almost every chapter. Yes, I know this sounds ungrateful ( please don't get me wrong, I love all of you that have actually taken the time to review) but it's happening all the time. It takes a minute or so to review, instead of just alerting the story. An alert is just a name in a list - a review is somebody actually taking the time to show you that they appreciate it.**

**And I'm expecting that there will be at least one person who will complain about this little note so…**

**1) Make it anonymous so I can delete it if you are planning to be really bitchy…**

**2) BIG BIG thanks to all the lovely people who have reviewed so far, especially the people who constantly review- it is because of you I am writing this! **

**Rant over! Enjoy!**

* * *

"An…an accident?" Booth repeated. "What kind of accident?"

Brennan looked down at the floor. Booth grabbed her upper arm, his fingers clasped firmly around her skin. Brennan's eyes shifted to his hand, but she made no move to attempt to release herself.

"I'm not going to sit down, Brennan." Booth told her, the panic clear in his voice. He looked anguished, and Brennan felt her heart breaking for him.

"I - I know." She stammered. This wasn't one of her strengths ; even if she had improved her sensitivity when delivering devastating news to families since she had started field work, she couldn't do this. She _knew_ Booth. She _loved_ Booth. How could she tell him something like this? "I should know that making you sit down won't ease the blow but-"

"Brennan!" Booth raised his voice, terror lining his handsome face, "Will you just tell me?"

"There - there was a car accident. It's bad but they're alive…That's all I know." Brennan said quietly. "I have the number of the hospital, so you can call them…Booth, I'm so sorry."

Silently, Booth turned and almost stumbled back into his apartment. Brennan exhaled and followed him. When she saw what he had obviously done for her, she felt even worse. The room looked beautiful, with a light, sweet fragrance in the air, and candles glowing on every surface. He was cooking - she could smell the food from where she stood. Quietly, she shut the door and walked into the kitchen. The counter tops were strewn with ingredients, cook-books and sheets of paper with handwritten instructions flowing over them ; Angela's handwriting. Absentmindedly, she turned off the oven, and the pans.

When Brennan walked back into the living room a few minutes later, Booth was sat on the couch, head in his hands. Brennan carefully extinguished all of the beautiful candles and then watched Booth. She walked over and sat beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

At her touch, he seemed to collapse into her, burying his head in her neck. Brennan hesitated, but then pulled him closer as he hung onto her as if he would never let go, as if he was lost at sea and she was the only thing stopping him from drowning. There was part of Brennan that acknowledged how absurd this was ; it was usually Booth comforting her, but now it was the other way round.

Inhaling quickly to stop herself from losing it too, she pulled slightly away and met his gaze. He wasn't properly crying, but his eyes were brighter than usual. His face was shocked and pale ; Brennan got the impression that there were things he wanted to ask her, but he couldn't get the words out.

"I'm sorry, Booth. They don't deserve this and neither do you-"

"This is all my fault." He whispered. "If I'd have just been there…maybe I could have-"

"You can't know that, Booth. It's impossible for you to know that you being there would have changed anything."

"It would, God, this is all my fault."

Brennan cupped Booth's face with her hands and forced him to look her in the eyes. She couldn't keep the shake out of her voice, even though she tried to remain steady. "Then it's my fault just as much as yours, Booth. You only came back here for me."

"No.." He murmured. "It's not your fault." Then he looked up at her, his gaze direct, his deep, chocolate brown eyes staring right into her. "Are they going to be okay?" He reminded her of a little boy, seeking reassurance from his mother. For a brief second, his eyes reminded her of Parker, and she found herself once again hoping that Rebecca and her son would be okay.

Brennan opened her mouth to answer ; no words came out. As Booth watched her, waiting for an answer that she didn't have, a promise there was no way she could keep, she felt like she was letting him down.

Brennan's phone rang, the shrill cry cutting through the silence of the apartment. She quickly pulled it from her pocket, and, flickering her worried eyes off Booth, she checked the screen.

"It's the hospital. Do you want to…?" Booth ran his hands over his face and nodded. Brennan handed the phone to him, squeezed his shoulder comfortingly and quietly left for the kitchen.

Once there, she leaned heavily against the refrigerator and sighed. She could hear Booth, asking frantic questions and it hit her all in one that this was really happening. Every part of her was wishing that Rebecca and Parker would be okay. Parker was a great little guy, and although she didn't really know Rebecca that well, even if she did feel resentment towards her for having pushed Booth out of his son's life in the past, she knew that she was a good woman.

And what would it do to Booth if something happened to either of them? He had asked her if they were going to be okay, and honestly, Brennan had no idea. On the phone with the hospital earlier, all she could make out through the speedy, nervous rambling was that there had been a crash, in which both mother and son had been injured ; she had made out the words "collision" and "severe "- not much, but enough to make her scared to the core. Surely it wasn't normal to feel this amount of fear?

As the conversation taking place over the phone in the next room drifted through, Brennan began to slowly clean up the mess in the kitchen. She emptied scraps and empty packaging into the trash, watched and dried a few knives, and scrubbed down the surfaces. It was nothing, really, insignificant in the grand scheme of things that were going on, but it made her feel like she was doing _something_, instead of just standing back and observing, being no help to anybody. Brennan hated feeling helpless ; she always had.

She was just draining the water out of the sink when she heard Booth enter the kitchen behind her. She turned around quickly.

His face was ashen. Brennan found herself flying to the worst possibly conclusion.

"Are they-?"

"No, no - they're still alive." Booth leaned on the doorway and rested his head on the frame, swallowing. "For now. The doctor… he made a point of saying that. _For now_."

Brennan hesitated. "What else did they say?"

"They listed the injuries but…to be honest with you, I didn't understand a lot of it. Broken bones, internal bleeding…" He took an unsteady step towards her. "It's not looking good, Bones."

Brennan moved to him and enveloped him in a tight embrace. She could feel him shaking beneath her grip.

When they pulled away, there was a new strength in Booth's eyes. "I gotta go. I gotta get to the airport, I need my- my passport- " He turned and disappeared into his bedroom. Brennan followed him. He was pulling a large holdall bag from the top of the closet and searching through.

"You're going? Now?"

"I have to." He pulled a shirt from the closet and threw it into his bag then stopped, rubbing his forehead. "Shit- I- I don't even know if I can drive, I was drinking when I was cooking before and- " He looked at her desperately, "Can you give me a ride to the airport?"

"I'm coming with you." Brennan said decisively. She wasn't aware that she was going to say this but when the words were out of her mouth she knew that it was the right decision to make.

Booth stared at her.

"To the airport?"

Brennan wavered. "To France. With you."

"You don't have to - "

"You don't want me to?"

"Of course I want you to." Booth told her honestly. Brennan stepped close to him and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

"Then don't worry. You should stay here and pack, and I'll go to my apartment and get some things together…I'll call Cullen and Cam to let them know and I'll be back here in about a half hour, okay?"

Booth nodded. He caught Brennan's arm as she turned to leave and pulled her into another hug. He breathed in her soft, sweet scent and sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Why should you be sorry?"

Booth hesitated. "Tonight really wasn't supposed to be like this." He pressed a shaky kiss against her neck. "But I really love you, Temperance Brennan. No matter what."

Brennan wanted to ask him what he meant, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead she pulled away and kissed him gently. " I love you too, Booth."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Brennan arrived back at Booth's apartment with everything sorted; she had a bag of luggage, she had her car parked outside, she had informed both Cam and Cullen where they would be, and had also called Angela, asking her to keep an eye on her apartment and also to collect her car from the airport car park later that night. She had also managed to secure last minute tickets to an airport near to the hospital that Rebecca and Parker were in, the flights leaving in a couple of hours.

"Booth?" She walked into the apartment, dumping her bag on the floor. "Are we ready to go? Our flight leaves in a couple of hours. "

There was no response. For one dreadful moment, Brennan thought that he had left without her. Slowly, she approached the bedroom and sighed with relief. Booth sat on his bed, staring at something in his hands.

Brennan sat beside him.

"What is it? Have you had some news?" Silently, Booth handed her a small, round coin, a kind of token. It was smooth, a golden colour. Brennan turned it over in her hands. On the other side of the token was a small raised imprint of what looked like a horse.

"When Parker was about four or five, we used to go to this little theme park. We could get on all of the rides with that token. He thought it was so cool, that we didn't have to pay at all. There was this one ride…God, I lost count how many times he went on it." His voice cracked. "If anything happens to him, I-"

"It's going to be okay, Booth." Brennan said, keeping her voice firm even if there was absolutely no certainty in her words. She didn't know that and right now, everything wasn't going to be okay. They were facing a long-haul flight to see if Booth's family were going to die. How could that _ever_ be okay?"

"Promise?"

Once again, Brennan couldn't answer. Booth saw her hesitation and in a second, pressed a kiss against her lips. It wasn't the right time - in fact it was _miles_ away from the right time - but she could feel his urgency, she recognised his desperate need for closeness, for a comfort that she couldn't provide him verbally, but could do so like this, physically. So Brennan didn't stop him, as he lowered her down onto the bed beneath his own body, as he passionately kissed her. One hand buried in her hair, the other fell to her leg and caressed her thigh. He was just as careful with her as he usual was, but everything was more urgent, harder, faster and more desperate. He needed this, and the need was different to the usual kind they experienced when they were making love. Booth groaned into her mouth, and moved his fumbling hands down to her waistline. Only then did Brennan gently push him away.

"We can't , Booth, we have to stop-"

Booth stared into her eyes and she saw the anger in the chocolate brown orbs; anger at himself, not at her.

"Shit!" Booth cursed, climbing off her. There was a pause, but then he violently punched the closet door so hard that he left a dent in the wood. Brennan sat up quickly, rearranging her shirt and brushing her hair back into place, her cheeks flushed.

Booth fiercely punched the closet again. Brennan hurriedly got up and grabbed his arm before he could do any more damage.

"Booth! Stop it!"

"What the hell am I doing? My son and his mom are in the hospital and I'm here trying to- " He couldn't finish. Silently, Brennan handed him the token. Booth rubbed his hands over his pale face. " I'm sorry, Temperance. You don't deserve this." Booth took a deep breath. "I just-"

"I know." Brennan said softly, squeezing his hand. There was an awkward silence. "Come on. We need to get to the airport."


	24. Odd One Out

**At first, I considered calling this chapter, _"The Chapter That Shows Just How Evil I Can Really Be When Writing Fanfiction."_**

******Insert evil laugh HERE.**

**This chapter was very difficult to write- not because of the content but because of technology. Because technology is, pardon my French, a total bastard. Firstly, my Microsoft Word/ Notepad/ Wordpad aren't working so I had to edit an old document on this account and write it on that. It kept deleting recent paragraphs every five minutes or so. Some paragraphs I have had to rewrite so many times I could write them in my sleep. Literally.**

**So yes, there may be errors. No, there will be errors. I used an online spell checker, but who knows? Who knows if you will find repeated paragraphs halfway through? Who knows if there will be consistancy errors? All these things have given me a LOT of trouble when writing this, but I have checked through and fingers crossed that there will be nothing serious wrong. Stick with me, I'm still getting used to writing this again. ;D**

**Okay...I promised the 300th reviewer (you know who you are :D...well, anyone can know who you are, if they can be bothered to check the reviews tbh :P) a preview and then I decided that I would send everybody who reviewed that chapter a preview. But then I started to write the preview and it turned into a chapter and then I had to post it. Yes. I'm an addict. **

**So...**

NatesMama :)

SouthunLady

mrsvartan07

lenzuke

quigely

my-completeness

quonoeye

bonesandcastle :)

Booth's Smurfette

...**because you were all lovely enough to review I promise to send you an important preview to an upcoming chapter, whether it's the next one, or the one after that. Whichever. I kind of have to write it first. And think of what to put in it. But thank you anyway :) x**

**Well. I'm not going to say anything else. Not even that I got about 10 more alerts and I KNOW that 10 new people didn't review. Or that I have a lot more hits but... well nevermind. I lurve all of you who reviewed.**

**And yes, I may be being selfish. If you have a problem, don't read it. And if you are thinking about just alerting this and never reviewing it, don't bother reading either.**

**Bye! x**

**P.s- Yes, longest author's note ever, but this chapter or the one after this may possibly be the last for a week or more because (yay) school is starting up again. Joy to the world. **

* * *

The one thing that seriously unnerved Brennan was the silence. Silence as they drove to the airport, silence as they waited_ in _the airport, exchanging dollars for euros and buying coffees that went cold. Silence as they boarded the plane, and for the duration of the flight, which lasted about 8 hours but seemed to last for years longer. And now, silence as they drove, in the taxi on the way to the hospital. Brennan had tipped the driver with Booth's euros, and asked him to get there as quickly as he could, but the traffic was bad. It had taken them a while to collect their bags, and to find a cab, and Brennan could tell that Booth was getting more and more agitated and impatient to get to the hospital. They were now in France, and the sun was already dancing over the sky ; it didn't seem right that the weather was perfect, not a cloud in sight, as if nature was celebrating something, when Parker and Rebecca were in a hospital. Life really _wasn't_ fair. She had known this for many years, since the tender age of about fifteen, but now it was really hitting home.

They arrived at the hospital and stepped out onto the concrete parking lot disorientated and blinking in the harsh sun. The rays were strong and bright but the air was chilly and Brennan couldn't stop herself from shivering. Without hesitation or words, Booth was pulling off his suit jacket and draping it around her shoulders. Brennan thanked him for the gesture and took his hand in hers. He didn't speak, but they shared a look as he gripped her fingers tightly back. As they walked through the hospital entrance and down the corridor towards the reception area, Brennan brought her other hand up to his upper arm and held it so firmly it was as though she thought that without her support he would fall and crumple to the floor. It wasn't a totally stupid idea. It was definitely one that had passed through her mind many times on the way here.

Booth had removed his tie and undone his top button on the way there, and his hair was tousled from hours of running his fingers through it. His face was pale and tired. He was, of course, as handsome as he always was, but he looked weak and - if she was being blunt - a total mess. She wouldn't have expected anything else from him, though. What father wouldn't look terrible if his son was lying in a hospital bed?

And Rebecca, of course...

"Seeley!" They had entered the reception area and Booth had dropped Brennan's hand as a blonde haired woman rushed up to them and swept him up into hug. It was Rebecca. Brennan took a few steps back politely and watched as Booth pulled his ex into a tight embrace. When they pulled away, Brennan looked at Rebecca properly.

She looked worse than Booth did. She wore a hospital gown and robe, and her left arm was encased in thick white plaster. Her face was eerily pale and hollow looking, her eyes red rimmed, and her cheeks tearstained and flecked with hundreds of tiny cuts. A large gash tore across her forehead, the stitches ugly and black.

"I'm so glad that you're here-" She began. Booth gripped her arm comfortingly, and against her control, a wave of uncertainty rushed through Brennan.

"You're okay?" Brennan stared at the back of Booth's head as he appeared to look Rebecca up and down. She nodded. It seemed like she hadn't yet noticed that Brennan stood a few steps behind them.

"I'm okay...broken arm, a few broken ribs, and this-," She gestured up at the nasty cut on her head. "I wouldn't let them give me an anaesthetic because I didn't want to be sleepy, so they're not very happy with me. " She broke off. "I was just sorting out some papers. I didn't want to go to sleep and leave him alone."

"Is he okay?" Booth asked urgently. Rebecca's voice cracked as she forced herself to speak.

"He hasn't woken up yet." A tear ran down her cheek. "The truck hit his side, in the back where he was sitting...he was wearing his seat belt but... they've already operated on his leg but they mentioned internal bleeding...a coma, I don't know-" Booth had enveloped her into another hug. Brennan could hear him talking to her ; she couldn't hear exactly what he was saying but his tone was soft and reassuring, one she recognized herself.

Brennan stood awkwardly, feeling very out of place ; she was just about to back off and give them some private time alone, when they broke apart again.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. " Rebecca exhaled, looking anything _but_ fine as she wiped away her tears. It was then that her eyes fell upon Brennan.

"Doctor Brennan..." Rebecca began in surprise. She looked her up and down then glanced back to her ex-boyfriend with a hint of a question on her face. "What are you doing here?"

There was an awkward silence as Brennan shifted uncomfortably, and opened her mouth as if to somehow speak ; no words would come out. Booth coughed and although Brennan could not see his face from the angle he was stood, she saw Rebecca's and knew that they were sharing a look. Sure enough, a few seconds later Rebecca rushed to amend herself.

"I'm sorry, that came out wrong - I know what a good friend you've been to Seeley over the last few years. It was good of you to come." With that, she moved forward, and hugged Brennan.

It wasn't the embrace that took Brennan by surprise (although there was an element of awkwardness about it) - it was the fact that Rebecca really had no idea about the true extent of her relationship with Booth. She had always just assumed that Rebecca knew ; surely Booth, or Parker would have said something? Wait... did _Parker _even know? It struck Brennan that the outgoing, bold little boy hadn't mentioned it at all the time she saw him before he had gone to France...it had only been one time, but still...

As the cogs were whirring in her head, slotting everything into place with amazing speed and precision, Brennan looked over Rebecca's shoulder at Booth, who had turned to watch the two woman. The look of realization on her face was enough for him to know that Brennan had realized that he had kept their relationship a secret from his ex; the look of guilt on his was enough to confirm Brennan's suspicions, too.

"It was no trouble at all." Brennan heard herself say as she pulled away from Rebecca. She smiled weakly at her. Although part of her wanted to demand as answer from Booth now, this wasn't the time, not when both Rebecca and Booth were still worrying ; their son was lying in a hospital bed with serious injuries, after all. Now really wasn't the time for a confrontation of any kind.

"Can we see him?" Booth asked suddenly.

"I think so. I saw him earlier, but they moved him to a side ward and I had to wait for visiting hours."

"When do they start?"

Rebecca checked her watch. "About...oh. Three minutes ago. But..." She hesitated.

"What?"

"It's two visitors to a bed at once, so..."

Rebecca looked awkwardly to the floor. Even before Booth looked over at her pointedly (which admittedly, caused a pinch of annoyance towards him ; _yes_, his son was in hospital, but didn't she even deserve words, rather than just a glance suggesting his intentions?) she was opening her mouth to speak.

"I'm...going to go and find some coffee. I'll see you both later." Booth turned and was already stalking down the corridor, desperate to see his son. Rebecca followed him but looked back. "Thank you for this. It's room 11, just round the corner. Ask a nurse if you need help!"

Brennan watched her catch Booth up and waited until they both disappeared from sight. When she was certain that they were both gone, she leaned back heavily against a wall, Booth's suit jacket still around her shoulders, and closed her eyes. It wasn't the fact that she felt so left out ; that was something she had felt many times in the past, admittedly rarely when she was with Booth, but still...maybe she should have expected to feel left out, because Rebecca and Parker were Booth's real family, not her. It still hurt. And maybe she should have expected Booth's urgency over seeing Parker to cause him to treat her with a cool disregard, but that still hurt too.

But the thing that hurt the most was the fact that Rebecca, and maybe Parker too, had no idea that Brennan was...that Booth was...what, exactly?_ "Boyfriend"_ sounded too childish, _"lover"_ sounded too wanton, and...well, _"Good Friends"_, as Rebecca had put it, was clearly out of the question unless the definition had been dramatically altered. Was he ashamed of her, was that the problem? Ashamed at being together with somebody so..._different_?

Sighing, Brennan opened her eyes and returned back to the dull, hospital corridor. Slowly, she began to make her way down, following the signs (in French, of course) until she reached the hospital shops. The cafe was shut, and the area was empty except for her but she saw a vending machine glowing with light and moved towards it. She sighed with relief when she saw that there was coffee available, and pulled some money from her pocket. Damn. It was dollars, and she needed Euros. There were no ATM's in sight. With that she remembered the money that Booth had withdrawn at the airport in euros. Carefully, she pulled off his suit jacket and reached into the pocket for the envelope of money. Her fingers closed around something hard, with a smooth, velvet surface. Curiously, she pulled the object out, and held it in her hand, watching it with complete shock. It was a jewellery box. It was too small to be a bracelet, or a necklace, which left earrings, or...for some reason, Brennan doubted that a pair of earrings lay in the box. Her mind flashed back to the scene that she had walked in on before she had told Booth the terrible news all those hours ago. Candles. A romantic meal. Booth, in a suit.

_"Tonight really wasn't supposed to be like this."_

One thing was for certain and beyond a doubt in her mind - she and Booth _really_ needed to talk.

It all slotted into place. Booth had planned to propose to her. Deep down, she knew that nothing was true until she heard the words come out of his mouth, but she had all the facts, didn't she? And she had proof, here in her hands. All she had to do was open the box, and see, confirm that it really was a ring and _then_ - her hand hovered over the box, touching it, but she couldn't bring herself to open it. A million and one emotions were running through her but her only focus was on the box, it all depended on _the box_, and what was it it. Temperance Brennan was rarely ever speechless, and whenever she found herself unable to speak, it was usually the work of her partner. He had really outdone himself this time. Whether she was pleased or not, that wasn't possible to say. _"Utterly confused"_ was the only way to describe how she felt. So many things were puzzling her - why he hadn't told Rebecca about their relationship, what was in the box..._no_, she _knew_ what was in the box. She couldn't look but she knew.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, and several tasks down, Brennan's head wasn't any clearer. She had called around, and finally found a hotel with a room nearby, after extensive searching. She had wanted to call Angela, but she couldn't think of what to say. Personal things were a problem ; professional things were easy on her whirring mind. Ignoring the time difference, she left a message for Cullen, and one on Cam's office phone, filling them in. It didn't distract her. She had a headache from the confusing, scary emotions and thoughts that were bothering her, and she was worried for the little boy, lying in Room 11. She had a feeling, in the pit of her stomach, that something horrible was just about to happen. She told herself that she couldn't worry over a mere thought ; _facts_ were everything in a situation like this. She still found herself hoping that this bad feeling had nothing to do with Parker.

Finally, these thoughts rousing her to the fact that she had no idea how the little boy was, she bought a coffee each for Rebecca and Booth, and began to walk to Room 11. She had replaced the envelope of money, and the ring. Booth was bound to notice that she had been in his pocket for money, and therefore had found the ring box - now, she was sure that it was a ring, even though she had not allowed herself to look - but maybe, due to the current circumstances, it would take a while for him to realize. Anyway, did it matter if he _did _notice? They needed to talk about it. Not now, obviously, and it was difficult for Brennan to see past this terrible mess to a time where it would be possible for them to discuss it, but still...

Eventually, she found the reception area, and made her way round the corner to find Room 11. She could check how Parker was, give them their coffees, and give Booth his jacket without blushing furiously, and then maybe muster up the courage to call Angela.

There it was. Room 11. As quietly as she could, she pushed open the door with her shoulder, holding the drinks carefully to avoid spilling. What she saw in the room almost made her drop them altogether.

Her focus should have been on the little boy on the bed, bandaged and bruised and still. The sight of him so helpless and damaged should have filled her with horror ; instead it was his parents that made her feel as though she was about to vomit, it was Booth and Rebecca, stood by the window, locked in another embrace. This one, however, differed from the one they had shared earlier. That had been an innocent hug between two desperate, upset parents. They were still desperate and upset, but this time the embrace was far from innocent. They were kissing fiercely, his hands buried in her long blonde hair, her good hand pulling his head closer into the kiss.

It felt like a punch to the stomach. A repeated, hard punch to the stomach. She stood, silently, the cups balanced in her hands, the suit jacket with the fascinating mystery box in the pocket over her arm, and watched, sickened. It took a few minutes before they broke off suddenly, and turned to see her. Rebecca, of course, was merely embarrassed ; so Booth's "good friend" had seen them kissing, so what? She didn't know what Booth knew, she didn't know the extent of their relationship. He did.

As Rebecca made her apologies and returned back to Parker's bedside, Brennan stood, frozen, coffee still in her hands, not hearing a word as Rebecca filled her in. Her eyes were locked on the spot where they had stood, where Booth still stood, staring back at her. Rebecca didn't notice that neither of them were listening, as she sat beside her son. Booth's full attention was on Brennan. A growing look of guilt was spreading across his face, guilt and distress. Brennan's face didn't reveal any of the confusion that had been picking away at her, or the hurt that was spreading through her now like a drop of blood in a bowl of milk. Just as she had watched in horror before, he watched in horror now, as her eyes became glassy and her face became guarded.


	25. Taking A Step Back

**Yes, this is a new chapter. So soon after the last one, you ask? For that you can thank SouthunLady because her kind little PM was what convinced me to stop being lazy and put another chapter up today, instead of waiting a week. You can also thank her/hit her because whilst I was writing this I thought of what is coming up next...**

**And- gasp- depending on reviewage, I may post another one later today ( well, early tomorrow, technically). Maybe.**

**BIG thanks to EVERYBODY who reviewed on the last chapter! 28 reviews! Made me very happy! Just over three times what I got for the one before that so thank you :) Don't forget, if you have any questions, just put them in a review or a PM :) Still working with no spell-check, just a crap online one so this may well have mistakes :/ Sorry!**

**So...here we are. Some of you may hate this. But...well...meh.**

* * *

Booth watched Brennan silently, not even pretending to listen to what Rebecca was saying, not that the blonde noticed ; she was leaning over her son, her back to the both of them, and so she couldn't see the wordless exchange that was taking place in the room as she rambled on.  
Brennan stood, in the doorway, still frozen. The coffees were still balanced in both hands, hands that were steady, and calm, and in no way reflected the turmoil of feelings taking place inside of her at that moment in time, as she stared at Booth, but didn't really see him. In her mind, the scene that she had just witnessed replayed over and over and over. Each time the kiss became more clear, the focus sharpened, and she couldn't stop it. She knew that Rebecca was speaking, she was aware that Booth was opening and closing his mouth as if he was searching for words and couldn't find them, but she couldn't bring herself to care.  
But just as quickly as she had been snapped into this short, speechless, comatose phase, she shook herself free from it. Brennan looked away from Booth, down to the coffees in her hands and heard herself speak.  
"I got you both a coffee, if you're thirsty."  
Rebecca looked up from Parker to her, with a soft smile. "Thanks. I probably shouldn't but..." She got to her feet and took the coffee carefully back over to her seat. "It'll keep me alert for a few more hours, at least."  
"You should get some sleep." Brennan advised her. She glanced down at the remaining coffee, then up at Booth and hesitated. Slowly, she placed the cup on the nearby surface of a small table on wheels, covered with bandages and boxes of latex gloves. There was an awkward moment of silence.  
"I'd better go-"  
"No, stay, please!" Rebecca pleaded.  
"The sign clearly indicates that only two visitors are allowed at a bed at one time-" Brennan began, but Rebecca waved this away.  
"Look, I need to go and call my parents anyway and let them know what's going on, and then I have to call work...it's going to take about a half hour, and I don't want to leave Seeley on his own..." Rebecca got to her feet and walked over to her ex. They shared an awkward look that Brennan couldn't fully determine (though it still made her stomach churn) and when Rebecca spoke, her voice was soft.  
"I'll be at the phones, in the cafe. Come and get me, if anything changes, okay?" Booth nodded, and she squeezed his arm before turning and heading to the door. Booth watched her go. As Brennan moved so that she could get through the door, she felt Booth's gaze upon her, burning into her skin, and she had to force herself not to look over at him. Brennan watched Rebecca walk down the hospital corridor, then moved away and let the door close behind her. As it shut with a small, low click, the atmosphere in the room seemed to become impossibly tense ; the tension could have been cut with a knife. Rebecca was gone now, and there was no reason for either of them to downplay what Brennan had walked in on, or pretend that everything was okay between them-  
"Don't forget your coffee, Booth." Brennan reminded him softly. Booth watched, arms folded, waiting for her to say something more, _anything_. Instead, she silently moved over to the chair opposite to the one that Rebecca had abandoned. She unhooked Parker's notes from the side of his bed and flicked through them, letting Booth's jacket fall over the chair's arm.  
"Brennan-"  
"Your coffee, Booth." Brennan said, without looking up from the notes. Booth stopped, but walked across the room, collected his coffee, and then moved back to the chair that Rebecca had vacated, sinking into it.  
"I called Cullen to let him know exactly what was going on, and I found a room in a nearby hotel, if you and Rebecca wanted to get some sleep."  
Booth paused. "I'm - I'm sorry, run that past me again?"  
Brennan looked up at him. "I found a hotel nearby with available rooms, if you or Rebecca wanted to get some sleep." She repeated slowly.  
" 'You and Rebecca'?" Booth repeated. There was a silence. "You said _'and'_."  
Brennan looked back down at the notes. "I meant 'or'. I _said _'or'."  
"You corrected yourself. You said _'and'_ the first time and _'or' _the second time-"  
"Booth, it's a simple mistake, why are you causing such a fuss over it? Now isn't the time to be pedantic."  
"Because it wasn't a mistake!" Booth placed his coffee on the table beside him and moved his chair closer to the bed. "You think that...Rebecca and I..."  
Brennan stiffened. "That has nothing to do with this, Booth."  
"What, so that's it? You really think that we're not going to talk about what...just happened?" He swallowed. "I was in the wrong, Brennan, please, just let me explain-"  
"Surely if you were in the wrong, then _I _have the right to decide whether or not I wish to discuss the incident?" Brennan raised her voice. She exhaled and turned a page in the report. "It doesn't matter."  
"Would you just...would you just _stop_ reading that report, dammit!" Brennan looked shocked at the heat in Booth's voice, but recovered quickly. She put the notes down on the bed.  
"Of course. I have no right to even be here, let alone read about Parker's condition." She said coolly, a hint of bitterness and hurt creeping into her voice.  
"That's not what I meant-"  
"Although in times like this, it's to be expected that you may need the support of a 'good friend'."  
"Please, just talk to me." Booth begged. Brennan looked over at him, at the desperation evident on his face. " Please, we have to talk about this-"  
"If I talk to you about this with you now, Booth, then there is a large probability that I will turn, walk right out of the hospital and catch the next plane to Washington D.C." Brennan told him. " I have no interest whatsoever in talking to you about this right now."  
"We need to talk!"  
"Why would that be, Booth? To ease your conscience? Because there's no need." Booth watched as she took a deep breath, calming down after her outburst. "I understand what happened. Why you..." Booth looked at her, frowning, utterly confused. "Both you and Rebecca are upset. I couldn't realistically expect you to seek comfort in me. It makes a lot more sense that you would seek comfort with somebody who knows and is going through the exact same pain that you are."  
"Wait-"  
"Apart from the fact that you both see the identical pain in one another, and only the both of you fully understand how the other feels, it is only natural that you feel connected to Rebecca. Some scientific investigations prove that a man will always have a connection of some sorts with the woman who mothered his child, especially his first child. In fact, they prove that the man will always be in love with that woman. The fact that you wanted to be closer to Rebecca in a situation like this isn't abnormal. I completely understand why you wanted to seek intimacy with the mother of your only child. Nobody else other than the mother can comfort you, I see that now."  
"Would you just...stop it!" Booth hissed through gritted teeth. "Would you just stop trying to make this anything other than it is, _please_?"  
"Booth-"  
"That - that science crap is all bullshit. Brennan-" Brennan had got to her feet and attempted to walk to the door but Booth was much quicker. As soon as her body gave indication that she was going to move, he was on his feet, and had beat her to the door, blocking her way before she could even blink.  
"Where are you going?"  
"Booth, let me past."  
"Are you going to the airport?" Booth looked agonized. "Please...please, don't leave."  
"Booth..." Brennan lifted a hand to cup his face. Booth's tense body relaxed a little at her soft touch, as if he was expecting something harsher, but the frown didn't shift from his face. " I just...need some air."  
"How do I know that you aren't going to leave?" Booth whispered. He reminded Brennan of a scared child, begging her for reassurance and answers. She glanced behind her at Parker, lying still in the hospital bed, so big that it dwarfed his small frame.  
"Because I want to be here for you. I know you have Rebecca.." Here, she avoided his gaze when the name was said. It didn't go unnoticed. "But I'm not going to leave."  
"You're going to stay but we're not going to talk?"  
"Yes." Brennan replied simply, an air of defiance in her voice. Booth pushed with more force on the door.  
"No."  
"No?" Brennan repeated, confused.  
"No. That doesn't work for me. You might be able to shut off all of your feelings, and come up with scientific reasons for what just happened but...yes, we're both upset, and yes, we both needed comfort but...I'm not in love with her! I will always be grateful to her for bringing my son into this world, but..." He took her hand. "I love you. I am so totally in love with you that it hurts sometimes. That stuff...about only Rebecca being able to comfort me...it's not true. You being here...it does more than you know."  
"Which is why you kissed Rebecca." Brennan said quietly. Booth heard the hurt in her voice, and got a glimpse of what she was really feeling ; it was the same hurt that he had seen in her eyes when she had first walked in.  
"I was...while you were gone, we got talking about Parker, and...about when he was a baby...and then she asked me what we would do if he...if we lost him..." Booth swallowed. "And then... I don't know how it happened, but I do know that it shouldn't have. It didn't mean anything."  
Brennan paused. "You don't need to apologize. It doesn't matter. I understand." This time, there was truth and softness behind her words, like what she was saying was actually genuine.  
"It does. There are no excuses...I'm just...sorry."  
"It's okay, Booth."  
"It isn't, but...we still need to talk about this."  
"Booth, it's okay." She squeezed his hand. "We don't have to."  
"I'm not going to let you do this."  
She frowned. "Do what?"  
"Shut me out. Pretend that you've just forgiven me so we don't need to talk about it."  
"Booth, I would suggest that the reason you don't want to be forgiven is because you don't feel that you have a right to be forgiven." Brennan said tiredly. Booth paused.  
"That isn't it. It is, but - I... I just want you to listen to me-"  
"Booth, why would I listen to you when you seem to have no intention of listening to me in return?" Brennan asked, raising her voice. "We are not talking about this. Not know. Now move."  
"You are not leaving-" Booth slammed his hand against the door and tightened the grip that his other hand had on hers. Brennan ripped her hand free and turned away from him. Booth glanced worriedly at his still son. No change. A wave of guilt for shouting in his son's hospital room washed over him. Brennan moved back to her seat. Booth watched her carefully, taking a few steps back until he was stood by the window. Knowing him as well as she did, Brennan could see the tension in his body, and knew that if she so much as moved towards the door he would be back there before her. She gritted her teeth and lifted her hands to push her hair off her face. This was like a nightmare. She couldn't believe that this was actually happening. So much was going through her head that she actually had a headache. There was the 'small' matter of Parker, ill in hospital, how selfish she felt for being occupied with other things _whilst_ Parker was ill in hospital, the confusion over the jewellery box she had found, the 'good friend' problem and the most recent problem, that she had walked in on, Booth and Rebecca kissing. It was difficult, if not impossible to believe that a day or so ago she hadn't been worrying about any of these things. If she had had any idea that all of this was going to happen...  
"Hey."  
Brennan and Booth snapped their attention to the door. It was Rebecca. She walked nervously over to the bed, and Brennan got to her feet so that she could sit down.  
"No, it's fine, I don't mind standing-"  
"It's okay. I insist." With an appreciative smile, Rebecca sat in the seat Brennan had just vacated.  
"How is he? Any change?"  
"Nothing. Still the same." Booth told her. Brennan could feel his eyes flickering from her to the door. She knew that if she left now, with Rebecca in the room, he couldn't stop her - and so did he.  
"I've got some phone calls I need to make, also. I'll be back." With that, she opened the door, and hurried out, sighing with relief as she entered the cool, empty corridor and began to quickly walk away from Room 11, exhilaration rushing through her veins.  
She relaxed all too soon. Lost in her rush of victory, she didn't hear the footsteps rushing behind her as she passed the reception area and rounded onto another empty corridor. Only when she felt a steel-like grip on her wrist did she realize that she hadn't got away as easily as she had thought.  
"You're not going." It was Booth, anger blazing in his eyes. Brennan tried to free her hand but his grip was too tight. "This is the last thing I need right now-"  
"This is the last thing that _you_ need?" Brennan repeated, furiously. "The last thing that _I _needed was to find out that Rebecca, and maybe Parker, think that we're just 'good friends'! The last thing_ I _needed was to walk in and find you kissing your ex after I found-" She stopped herself speaking quickly, but it was too late.  
"After you found what?"  
There was a silence.  
"After I_ flew_. After I flew all the way out here with you."  
"That's not what you said."  
"Well, it was what I meant."  
"I swear, if you don't start telling me the truth, I'm going to-"  
"To what?" Brennan demanded. Booth gritted his teeth. "I am not one of your suspects, Booth! You cannot threaten and manhandle me like you do them." Immediately, he dropped her hand. She should have turned and ran away in the opposite direction. Instead, she stayed where she was. "I found the box. In your jacket pocket. I was looking for money for the coffee and I found it." As her words were sinking into a shocked Booth, she turned, and hurried away.

* * *

He found her on one of the top floors, sat curled up against the wall, at the bottom of the staircase that led to the roof. It took him only about ten minutes, and five of those had been spent on getting them drinks. Despite him insisting that they had to talk, he felt bad about leaving his son; he had returned to the room and told a confused Rebecca that he wouldn't be long, and checked that she had his number if she needed him.  
He approached her silently and hesitated, before sitting beside her. Brennan looked a little surprised to see him, but didn't say anything. He handed her one of the steaming polystyrene cups.  
"It's tea. Herbal." Brennan inhaled the smell appreciatively then glanced over at Booth's cup, filled with dark brown liquid, smelling the strong bitter scent of coffee. She raised her eyebrows.  
"What? You know I hate that healthy crap." He took an exaggerated slurp of his coffee and Brennan couldn't hold back a smile. She took a sip of her own drink and then placed it carefully on the floor beside her.  
"I'm sorry for pulling you away from Parker."  
"You didn't." Booth told her softly. "There's no change. Besides...I have to say this, even though I know it will make you angry...we have to talk, Bones."  
Brennan sighed. "I know."  
"You do?"  
"I know the right thing to do, even if I don't want to do it." Booth nodded, leaning against the wall.  
"I'm sorry." Booth told her, pushing his hands over his face. "I'm sorry for all of it. Kissing Rebecca...I could see when you walked in how much it bothered you. It was just...a moment of madness. I understand that you feel betrayed."  
"When I said I understood...I meant it. It was like Martin, right? Moment of madness.  
"Moment of madness is right. That guy was a psycho." Brennan smiled.  
"At least we're equal now." She sighed.  
"This...this wasn't about getting revenge, or getting equal, though, Brennan, you have to believe that. People do stupid things when they're upset. Not as stupid as what I did, but..."  
"I know." Brennan said quietly. She hesitated. Booth waited. "Why did you...?"  
"Not tell Rebecca or Parker?" Booth confirmed. Brennan nodded. "I honestly don't know. I just...I guess, the moment I told them it really meant something. And I was okay with that. Really. I mean, this couldn't mean any more to me than it already does. This was a place that I never thought I'd truly get to, not even with Rebecca when Parker was born but...I'm here. I'm here, Bones. But... I didn't want to freak you out."  
"What do you mean?"  
"I...thought that if I told you that they knew..." Booth sighed and slumped further into the wall, Brennan's eyes never leaving him. "I thought that you'd freak out. I didn't want to do anything to scare you. I was going to tell them soon." He let out a chuckle. "I was going to have to."  
Brennan looked away from him awkwardly. Booth turned his head to watch her. "It was...it just came to me today. Yesterday. Whichever. It just...hit me. How much I love you. How much I want to be with you. You weren't supposed to find out that way."  
Brennan sighed and lifted her hands to cover her face wearily.  
"I know it's a lot to take in." Booth said quickly. " All of it. And...I know you're going through a lot, because of me but I'm here. When you need me."  
There was a long silence. Booth almost thought that she hadn't heard him. She sat, knees pulled up to her chest, staring at the wall ahead. Finally, she spoke.  
"I'm going to leave."  
Noting Booth's look of utter shock, she hurried to continue. "Not now. I'm going to wait until Parker's better - and he is going to improve, Booth- because I want to be here with you to help you...and for selfish reasons, like just wanting to be with you. You've never left me when I needed you and I'm not going to leave you right now." She took a deep breath. "But...obviously when Parker improves, you're going to want to stay with him for a while. But whilst I'm here...I think that we should just...take a step back and think instead of...you know. I think that, just while I'm here, to make things easier we should be just...friends. Then, I'll go home and just think. Then we can take it from there. I need time to think, to figure all of this out. It's a lot to..."  
"I know." Booth managed to say.  
"It should be easier." Brennan laughed sadly. "But -"  
"I know."  
Carefully, Brennan leaned her head on his shoulder, and Booth, stared ahead at the wall, gritting his teeth, eyes shut tightly to keep control. "I know, Temperance."


	26. Arriving

**Yeah, yeah, another chapter. Thanks for all the reviews, some of them were really interesting.**

**Blah blah blah, spelling errors, blah blah blah, sorry it's short, blah blah blah.**

**Okay, here's the thing. If you're skimming past this now, about to read and not review, STOP. Please turn back around and go. It's annoying as hell, really.**

**Maybe you can tell I'm in a bad mood, Whatever. I'd say enjoy, but I can't actually tell anyone what to do. I meant it about the thing above though. Seriously.**

**Well, think of this whatever the hell you want. :)**

* * *

Booth stood in front of the mirror in the men's rest room down the corridor from Room 11, leaning heavily on the sink as he stared at his reflection. He almost didn't recognize himself. He was paler than usual, except for the dark shadows beneath his eyes. These weren't the only indication of how much time he had spent at the hospital ; his forehead furrowed into a permanent frown, and stubble spread over his lower face.

It had been three - no, _four_, now - days since he had flown in to see Parker and he hadn't left the hospital once. He rarely left his son's bedside ; the nurses sympathized with him, and didn't bother now to remind him of the visiting hours. They even turned a blind eye when he had used the shower room at the far end of Parker's room.

Brennan had used the shower room too. Rebecca, of course, was a patient, and she had been made to get sleep at the appropriate times, but Brennan, despite having booked a hotel room, had stayed with him. With _Parker_, that is. They had each taken one of the large seats beside the bed, drifting in and out of sleep, covered with the blankets that the kind nurses had given them. He tried to convince her to go back to the hotel room, but she had told him that she would go when he did, something that she knew he wouldn't do. He couldn't leave Parker, not now. There had been no change. It was worse not knowing what they were dealing with, not having a definitive answer ; the French nurses, though sweet and kind, could not tell them exactly what was wrong, maybe because it was bad or because they themselves simply didn't know. Booth got the feeling that Brennan, having glanced over Parker's notes, knew more that she was letting on about his son's condition but he couldn't bring himself to ask, fearing what her answer would be. He knew that she wouldn't lie to him ; would he be able to handle the truth when she gave it to him?

Their days were beginning to settle into a routine ; wake up before dawn, when one of them would go and get breakfast and bring it back ; a few hours later Rebecca would come down from her ward, and would stay until she had to leave to get some sleep. The "Two People To A Bed" rule was another thing that the nurses were turning a blind eye to. Booth knew that Rebecca was being kept in because of complications on her arm - he also knew that the doctor wasn't very happy with her spending all day down in Room 11, out of bed.

At least she was getting sleep. Booth knew that Brennan was getting as much sleep as he did, which wasn't a lot. She never gave any verbal indication that she was tired, but he could tell ; he saw the yawns she tried to hide, the shadows under her own eyes that she tried to conceal with make-up each morning. He felt guilty that she was staying here because of him, but at the same time her presence was a huge comfort to him, even if they didn't speak much. He knew that her loss would bother him a lot when Parker was well and she went home.

They hadn't talked about it, but Booth was definitely thinking about it ; in fact, he couldn't get the thought out of his mind. It wasn't just the fact that he would miss her, would crave her being there with him. He should have really been looking forward to it, in a strange way ; her leaving was linked with Parker getting better, which he wanted with all of his heart. But he didn't want her to go. Because when she went, that would mean that eventually he would go home, too, and see her again - and she would have had time to think. He was dreading what her decision would be. She had never really specified that she would be making a decision but it was obvious to Booth. How did he know that she wouldn't just decide that their relationship wasn't working out? How did he know that Brennan wouldn't just decide that they needed a break? Maybe that was what he was dreading most of all ; her suggesting that they had a break. If the break got longer and longer, maybe she would realize...

They were already on a break now. They were no longer together, in _that_ sense of the word. Usually, they were together in _every_ sense of the word. Now, they were just physically together - and there was a major difference between this "physically different" and the one that he was used to.

No touching. _At all_. No kissing. They had hugged once, on the second night in the hospital, when Booth had become upset, but that was it. It made him feel upset and guilty at the same time - upset that they were basically just friends, and guilty that he wasn't spending all of his time worrying about Parker. Of course, he was worried about his son...but he was worried about this, too.

He wanted to apologize fervently, even though he knew she wasn't demanding apologies from him, and probably never would for anything. He felt like he had so much more explaining to do, but she didn't want to hear it. Or she didn't seem to want to hear it.

This was total madness. He saw how hurt she was when she saw them kissing, he had heard the hurt in her voice ; how did she think that splitting up for a while would help? It was just delaying the inevitable ; when they would have to sit down and decide. Decisions had to be made all right, and if she wanted to jump ship...Booth wasn't sure if he could handle it.

But then there was the little voice in the back of his head, the annoyingly infuriating voice, telling him that all of this back and forth was getting a little ridiculous, the voice that urged him to make his own decision before she could make it for him. _Why wait for her to jump ship? Why not walk away now and cut his losses?_ If they carried on like this, who knew what would happen? One thing he had never wanted to happen was for her to hate him, and after the stunt a few days ago it was getting more and more likely that that was going to be the outcome of this charade. True, they would never be friends now. Too much had happened, too much had been said and done between them that they couldn't go back to how things used to be before all of this. But they could find their way again. Right now, it felt like they were heading somewhere, yes, but the path was dark and they were lost on their way. Booth hated the feeling.

And then there was Parker...

There was no change in the little boy. He was still in a coma. It hurt Booth beyond words to see his son like that. A million and one 'what-ifs' pulsed through his mind as he spent hours in the early morning watching his son, listening to his steady heartbeat beeping along the monitor that he was hooked up to. If anything happened to him-

Before he even knew what he was doing, Booth's fist had shot out and pounded against the mirror before him ; it immediately shattered, breaking and distorting his reflection. Beads of blood began to fall down his knuckles over his clenched fist. As Booth tried to control his anger to prevent another outburst, day four crept up, as the sun crept along the azure blue sky.

* * *

Brennan emerged from the en suite bathroom. She had just taken a shower ; Booth had assured her that the nurses wouldn't say anything, and he was right ; she had just told one of them who walked in to check on Parker that she was about to shower, and the woman only smiled. And what else was she supposed to do? She hadn't left the hospital in days. That would have been too long to go without showering.

She glanced through the window at the sun beginning to take over the sky. _Days_. It seemed like _years_.

She walked over to her bag on the floor and knelt down before it, rooting through for a shirt. She was barefoot, wearing jeans and a skimpy, white camisole that revealed a lot of skin. She glanced over at the bed briefly and watched Parker. She felt a wave of sadness rush over her. He _had_ to get through this. He _had_ to be okay. If not...

Sighing she returned to rooting through the bag for a shirt when the door opened. Brennan looked up briefly. It was Booth.

"Did you get the coffees-?" She began, before she looked at him again, this time properly and gaped. He had no coffees ; instead he was nursing his right hand. It was covered with blood.

Immediately, Brennan was on her feet, rushing over to him. "What happened?" She demanded, pulling his hand closer to her and examining it. Booth winced.

"It's nothing..I..I got angry. Hit a mirror."

"A mirror?" Brennan repeated but she didn't question him any further. They shared a look. Brennan hurried over to the cabinet at the other side of the room. "Sit down, Booth." She searched the cabinet and found antiseptic cream, bandages, cotton wool pads and large band aids. When she returned back to his side, leaning over, she reconsidered.

"It looks bad, Booth. Maybe we should get one of the nurses to have a look at it and clean it out."

"I don't want them to."

"It might have glass in it, Booth."

"No, it doesn't. I can tell. It was a clean break. No glass came off."

"But even the tiniest piece-"

"Brennan." She stopped and looked at him. "It's fine. I want you to do it, not some nurse."

There was a pause. Brennan nodded. Carefully, she filled a glass with water from the pitcher, picked out a cotton wool ball, and wet it.

"This will -"

"Hurt, I know the drill. It's fine. Go ahead."

"So you got angry and you hit a mirror?" Brennan questioned. Booth nodded and looked up at her.

"Angry about...?" Booth gave her a look. She blushed. "Right. I'm sorry. Stupid question." The cuts had stopped bleeding, and all of the blood was now gone. Taking another cotton wool ball, Brennan covered it with antiseptic cream and slowly began to dab it over his knuckles. Booth winced as the cool cream stung.

"Did it make you feel better?" Brennan asked him, as she finished off with the cream and reached for a large plaster, ripping off the back and sticking it awkwardly over his knuckles. She reached for the bandage and began to wrap it tightly around his hand.

"For about a second." He told her softly. They shared another look. Brennan coughed, and continued to wrap the bandage around his fist, before tucking it in and securing it with tape. Her fingers brushed against his and an electric shock passed between the two of them at the contact. It was then that Booth realized what she was wearing. Her shirt - _surely_ that couldn't be called a shirt? - was thin ; he could see the black, lacy cups of her bra. It also revealed the creamy skin of her arms, with its low neckline revealing more. It was riding up, revealing an expanse of her perfect, flat stomach...

Brennan was aware of the intensity of his moving gaze, and their hands still touching. Brennan shifted uncomfortably and pulled away with a cough. Booth, too, shook himself to his senses. Now really wasn't the time. His gaze returned to Parker, and he took his son's hand carefully. Brennan found a red and blue (tight) checked shirt and pulled it on, buttoning half of the buttons and sweeping her damp hair up into a messy bun.

"If you get any additional pain, it would be advisable for you to consult with the nurses." She told him quietly.

"Sure. I will. If, y'know, I do. Thanks, Bones."

She smiled at him before sinking back into her seat across the bed. "No problem."

They sat in comfortable silence as time passed. Occasionally, they shared a glance across the hospital bed, but that was the only form of communication they shared. The silence wasn't awkward, more...peaceful. If it wasn't for the constant reminder that he was going through hell, presented before him in the form of his son's still, broken body, then he might have been able to pretend that everything was okay. That they were still together.

"Brennan..." Booth began. Glancing at him almost fearfully, Brennan interrupted him.

"I hope you don't mind - when Rebecca arrives, I have some calls to make."

"Calls?"

"Yes. To the airport. I'm going to purchase a ticket to Washington D.C. that can be used any time in the next 2 months."

"2 months?" Booth repeated. He was clutching at straws. "But if-"

"Hey."

It was Rebecca, still in her gown and robe, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. She moved towards the bed and stared at her son.

"No -?"

"No change." Booth told her. She sighed and leaned on the bed. As always, Brennan got to her feet and steered Rebecca to her seat.

"Doctor Brennan, it's really fine -"

"Now that you're here, do you mind if I make some calls?" Rebecca shook her head, and Booth stared at Brennan silently as she walked to the door. Their eyes met ; she gave him a sad smile before walking out. Booth sighed loudly. _Dammit_.

They sat in silence, both staring at their son between them, tucked up in the bed. Booth was remembering a picnic he had shared with his son at a nature reserve a few years back when Rebecca spoke, breaking the hum of the quiet.

"Seeley..." Rebecca began, leaning over the bed and lowering her voice. She spoke quickly, the words rushing out as if she had been holding them in for a while ; Booth got the feeling that she had been waiting a long time to say this, and it was Brennan's absence that had triggered it. "Maybe we should talk about what happened the other day."

Booth stared at her. After the first couple of days had passed, he had assumed that she was over it. "Now?"

Rebecca pushed her hair back from her face and nodded. "I know this isn't the greatest of times, trust me-" They both looked at their still son in unison. "But if we leave it, it'll just boil up until something serious happens. I just need to know what it meant to you."

"What did it mean to _you_, Becca?"

His ex shrugged. " I don't know. At the time I thought it was just because of Parker, but...I don't know. I've been thinking about it a lot. About how we could be a proper family to Parker. I mean, there's always been _something_, hasn't there? Between you and I? Something _special_?"

"Yeah._ Parker_." Booth reminded her softly. Rebecca looked lovingly at her son, then back to his father. "Yeah. He's the most special thing in my world, Seeley. I just...we get on, don't we? That kiss more than proved that. Maybe this is our chance? To be a family to Parker. I know he says it doesn't bother him, us not being together, but maybe we owe it to him to give it a chance."

There was a silence.

"Rebecca..."

"Just think about it." She pleaded. Booth lifted a hand to stop her.

"I don't need to. Neither do you. This isn't what you want, Bec. You want this because of Parker, _for_ Parker. As much as I wish that that was enough, it isn't. Not for me." He stared at his son. Minutes passed before he next spoke.

"There's someone else."

Rebecca looked up at him quickly, a lot more surprised than disappointed. "You never said."

"I know. I should have." He looked her right in the eyes. "It's Brennan."

"Doctor Brennan?" Rebecca looked stunned, before realization flooded across her features. "That explains why she came with you. And why-" She looked horrified. "Oh my God. She saw us kissing!" Her eyes narrowed. "You kissed me!"

"You kissed me back!"

"I'm not dating somebody!" There was a silence before she carried on normally ; in that moment, Booth felt a surge of affection for her for not treating him like the ass he knew he was. "Is it serious?"

Booth leaned his elbows on the bed and rested his head in his hands. "It is. It was, I -" He pushed his fingers roughly through his hair with a groan. "I don't know anymore, Becca. I've screwed it up, again. It's just...we can't just ever seem to be together and just be happy, y'know? There's always got to be drama."

"You like her?" She took his silence as a 'yes'. "Well, that's why. Look, if it all went smoothly you'd have something to worry about. Chemistry, right? Makes things interesting."

Booth groaned again. "I think I'm ready for a normal, dull life, please."

She laughed. "If you two can't settle down, then you obviously have issues you haven't worked through properly. You just need to make a gesture to show her that you want to make things work, and then get round to the awkward talking part afterwards." Booth gave her a look. She rolled her eyes. "Trust me. I know."

"A gesture..."Booth repeated thoughtfully, then shook it away. "I don't know. I think it's too late to-"

"Never too late, Booth." She gave him a smile. "You taught me that."

* * *

"_Oui. Oui. Merci, beaucoup_." Brennan thanked the man on the other end of the call before hanging up the phone carefully. The voice that came suddenly from behind her made her jump and whirl round.

"French. Another one of your many hidden talents, Bones." It was Booth, hands buried deep in the pockets of his jeans, looking sheepish and nervous. He saw she was shaken and took a step forward. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

"Why aren't you with Parker?" Brennan asked politely. Booth looked at the floor.

"I just...I was just talking with Rebecca."

Brennan stiffened. "Oh."

"Yeah, we - er- we started talking and...she's really made me see sense, y'know? She's made me see that it isn't too late. That even if something goes wrong, and gets difficult, you should try again. Because some things are worth it."

Brennan felt her stomach twisting into knots. She knew what Booth was trying to say and it made her feel sick. Booth and Rebecca were going to give their relationship another chance. It was something she had always dreaded and now it was really happening. It felt like she had just been punched in the gut. It felt like a betrayal worse that the one she had experienced deep down when she had seen the two of them kissing. This didn't count as a betrayal though, did it? She was the one who wanted them to be just friends while they were in France. It was _her_ fault that he and Rebecca were...She couldn't even bring herself to think about it.

Booth surveyed Brennan intently, puzzled as a near devastated expression spread over her face. In the blink of an eye, she rushed past him. She was quick, but he was quicker. He caught her wrist and turned her back round to face him, though she steadfastly avoided his gaze. "Whoa, whoa, whoa - Brennan, what's the matter?" She swallowed and didn't speak. "What's wrong?"

Brennan forced herself to look at him, totally embarrassed at how clearly upset she was. "I'm happy for you Booth, both of you. Truly. It makes sense that you and Rebecca would want to rekindle your relationship ; after all, you have a significant history. You have a _son_."

"Whoa, hold on a second." Booth said. He held both of her arms so that she couldn't run, but his fingers slipped down over her soft skin so that he was firmly holding her hands in his. "Rebecca and I are going to what our what?" Realization dawned over his face. "You think Rebecca and I -"

"It's fine, Booth. Really."

"No, it's not fine!" He exclaimed. "It's not _anything_! Rebecca and I...we're friends. We're not together now and we never will be."

Relief crossed Brennan's face, then confusion. "Then - what?"

"She made me realize something. Two things, that I need to do." He exhaled. "First...we need to talk."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Booth-"

"Not now. When Parker's well again, and we're back at home. Then, we'll talk. About everything. You. Me. Martin. Rebecca. My issues, your issues..." He paused. "Our issues.

Brennan looked agonized. "Booth-"

"Talking about it all is the only way we're ever going to work through it. Believe me, Brennan, that's what I want more than anything." He watched her, waiting. She gave a small nod, and he smiled, squeezing her hand in response.

"What was the second thing?"

"Huh?"

"The second thing you had to do?"

_Oh, dear Lord, help me. Amen._ "The second thing I...right. The second thing." _Now or never, Booth. What's it going to be?_ "You can be awkward and insensitive." He began. Brennan looked hurt but he continued, the words flooding out in a rush. "You never want to talk about things that have happened, and it took you so long for you to admit that you loved me...sometimes I think you're just doing this for me -" Brennan opened her mouth to correct him but he lifted a finger to her lips, silencing her. "You always talk over me. You have an answer for everything, even things that are better off left unanswered. You laugh at my religion." A smile crept to his lips. "You thought I loved _Rebecca_." The finger on her lips curled under her chin so that he was cupping her face in his hand. "But you have the biggest heart of anyone I know, no matter what people might think. Every day you prove to me that you aren't as cold as people might think you are until they get to know you." Booth smiled at her. " You are an amazing woman. You are smart, and loving, and loyal, and so, _so_ beautiful." Brennan's cheeks flushed rosy- pink. Booth stroked them softly. "And you're modest." He bit his lip. "And I know...you don't believe in marriage. I know when we met you couldn't see yourself settling down with a husband and having a kid." Brennan's heart began to thud even more quickly. She was sure that pretty soon it would begin to echo around the empty hospital cafeteria. "But...I've seen how good you are with kids. Parker loves you." He paused. " I love you." Slowly, he reached into his pocket and Brennan's breath hitched in her throat as he pulled out the ring box. She stared into his chocolate brown eyes, stunned. She had never seen Booth look so nervous. Her hand flew to cover her mouth when he slowly knelt down on the floor before her.

"Temperance Brennan." Booth began. He opened the box, revealing a beautiful, sparkling ring. Brennan let out something between a cry and a gasp. He swallowed but gave her a soft half- smile before continuing. "Will you do me the huge honor of becoming my wife?"

There was an agonizing silence. Booth waited, staring up at her, praying to his God, to every God of every single religion that this was it. This was the moment that he had been waiting, hoping for, the moment that everything in their relationship had been leading to.

A tear ran down Brennan's cheek. Immediately, Booth took this as a bad sign, and was about to get to his feet to comfort her, but there was no need ; Brennan pulled him to his feet, and pressed her lips against his, kissing him fiercely. Her hands cupped his face, and his slipped to her waist and buried in her hair. As much as he was enjoying the kiss, he had to pull away, resting his forehead against hers and breathing, "You didn't answer my question."

"Didn't I?" Brennan asked, in a dreamy voice much unlike her own. She stared at him, straight in the eye, as if he was a puzzle that she was trying to work out, before she blurted out her answer. "Yes."

"Yes, you answered my question or yes, you'll...?"

"Yes, I'll marry you, Booth." Brennan whispered. A huge smile spread across his face, lighting up his eyes, and Brennan giggled -_ yes_, Temperance Brennan knew how to _giggle_- as he lifted her up so that her head was above his, her hair falling down onto his face. She brushed it aside, laughing, and then they kissed. They were kisses that tasted of hope and newly made promises. Yes, they still had a lot to talk about, but finally, it felt like they were moving forward, instead of backwards ; finally, it felt like a new start.

It felt like the place that they had always knew that were driving towards, but had never quite been able to make it there.

Now they were there. And nothing had ever felt as good.


	27. Everything

_HELLO people of Planet Earth and Beyond._

_I know it's been a looong time since I last updated - thank you very very much for all of the reviews, they cheered me up a lot :) I was in a **very **bad mood when I updated last, but I haven't stayed away because I was pissed off; I've been really busy and then wouldn't let me upload documents, so ooo..._

_Okay. The usual. There will be spelling errors. This is a fact. There is A LOT crammed into this one chapter, and as usual, I wrote it completely randomly and in a weird order, so anything weird is probably down to that. It may seem rushed. Meh. Not in the mood for sad hospital drama atm._

_IMPORTANT...Okayyy...I need help. I need to know how long you all want this story to go on for. I don't want to pointlessly drag this out for too long, but on the other hand, I don't want to stop yet. Help? PLEASE leave your ideas in a review as it will really help me!_

_Once again, thank you for all the lovely reviews- I'm going to try and work through replying to all of them soon as a thank you. Please PM me if you have anything else to say :) If you are all lovely and review quickly, I can get another chapter on easily today/ soon after. Thank you! X_

_

* * *

_

_"Booth-"_  
_Kissing. More kissing. Her hands, her fingers, lightly trailing over his muscular back, their bodies joined in sweat, her legs hooked around his waist. She lets out a moan of pleasure and he deepens the kiss. He will never be able to get enough of her. They move together, connected in more ways than one; he moves inside of her, and when they break away, their breathing shallow and hurried, and they look at each other, he feels like she is looking right into his soul. She pulls him back to her, and he moves down, feverishly kissing her neck. She arches up against him with a loud groan._  
_"Yours." She groans, scraping her nails down his back, as he sucks fiercely on her flesh. "I'm yours."_

_

* * *

_**~EARLIER**"Hey, sweetie." Brennan went through a mixture of responses at hearing her best friend's voice through her cell phone. Her first emotion was relief, that finally, she had somebody other than just Rebecca, and (as much as she loved him) Booth to talk to. The next feeling was apprehension, and it made her shoulders tense up immediately. Angela didn't know that she was engaged. Didn't know that when eventually Brennan arrived home it wouldn't be with Booth her partner, or Booth her boyfriend, it would be with Booth, her fiance. The word fiance, to be fair, annoyed her just as much as the word "boyfriend" had, as it sounded just as trivial and meaningless. She wondered if the word "wife" or "husband" would sound just as infantile, or would it have a stronger, steadier meaning?  
The very thought made her flush red. Her cheeks burned scarlet as she heard Angela's puzzled voice over the line.  
"Sweetie? Brennan? Are you still there?"  
Pulling herself together, Brennan cleared her throat and continued. "Yes, yes, I'm still here, Angela."  
"Good. You had me worried there for a moment. Speaking of worried, how is the little guy?"  
"No change, Angela. A month and a half tomorrow and no change."  
She heard the artist sigh heavily down the line. "Oh God, sweetie, I'm sorry. How is Booth?"  
"Worried. As you'd expect." Brennan sighed. "It's strange- we deal with loss every day in our line of work, but I never thought that it would be Parker who..."  
"He's going to be okay though, right?"  
"I don't know, Ange. Like I said, it's been a month and a half. Ideally, he'd be awake by now..." Brennan stopped. " Ideally, he wouldn't be in this situation at all."  
"I know, honey, I know. It must be terrible for you."  
"I know it's a lot worse for Booth. Technically, Parker is nothing to do with me. He's all Booth has."  
"He has you, Brennan. " Angela told her softly. " Don't underestimate how much that means to him."  
Brennan's fingers fell slowly to the lump that the jewellery box created in the pocket of her jeans. She couldn't tell Angela. Not now.  
"I know."  
"Where's Booth now?"

* * *

hospital into the crisp morning air. She scanned around, and quickly found what she was looking for. Booth was stood, under the same huge entrance veranda that she was, leaning against a drinks machine. Hugging her thin cardigan closer to her body, she slowly walked over to him, leaning her back against the soda machine as he glanced up at her with a half smile.  
"Hey. What are you doing?" Brennan asked, pushing her hair off her face. There was a click, as the prepared coffee was lowered, and Booth carefully handed it to her.  
"Just getting some coffee. That one is for you. I was going to bring it back." He inserted some more money, and went about picking his choice again.  
"Thank you." Brennan took a sip from the drink and winced as she tasted how much sugar he had put in. "How much sugar did you put in this, Booth?"  
"It's good for shock. Or is that sweet tea?"  
"I'm not in shock." Brennan watched as he pressed the button for sugar repeatedly. "Are you in shock? You're putting more sugar in there than actual coffee."  
"I like sweet coffee. Or sweet things in general." He gave Brennan a look. She chose to ignore the teasing hint.  
"Like pie? Pie is sweet."  
"Amongst other things." They shared a look, interrupted only by the click of Booth's coffee. He took it. They stood beside each other in a companionable silence.  
"You know, there are coffee machines inside."  
"I just...I don't know, I wanted some fresh air."  
"Do you want to be alone?"  
"Why aren't you wearing your ring?"  
Booth's question was sudden and it shocked Brennan completely. His tone was merely curious, but Brennan wondered if this was just a front.  
"Are you angry?" She suddenly heard herself asking.  
"I'm just...confused. Are you...having second thoughts?"  
"No!" Brennan said loudly. "No." She repeated firmly. "Not at all." A thought occurred to her. "Are you?"  
"Having second thoughts? Me?" He laughed. "I'm wearing my ring."  
"You don't have a ring, Booth."  
Booth paused, then backtracked. "Not physically. But emotionally-"  
"Is that psychology? Are you trying to use psychology on me?"  
Booth grinned at her outrage, then became serious. "I just...want to know what's going on. No secrets any more, right?"  
"Not any more." She paused. "I don't know. I just...It's difficult. I don't want to rub it in Rebecca's face and then...then there's the other people..."  
"You don't want anyone to know."  
Brennan glanced at him worriedly. "Please, Booth, don't think that I'm ashamed, because I'm not. I think...I need time. To adjust. One minute we're friends, then partners, then..."  
"We were never friends." Booth remarked cheerfully, in a sing-song voice. Brennan looked at him surprised; he wasn't upset. This was...not what she had expected, but still...  
"Never?"  
Booth's eyes sparkled mischievously. "You wanted me from the moment you saw me." Brennan stared at him in disbelief. "Don't deny it. I know it's true, Bones."  
The wind whipped through Brennan's hair. She pushed it off her face. "What about you?"  
Booth pulled her to him suddenly and grinned. "I always want you." Brennan's breath hitched in her throat at his husky-voiced confession.  
"That ring means something, Bones." He ran his hands over her back. "I know you're gonna hate this, but that ring means that you're mine. I know that." He gave her an intense look. "Damn, I hope you know that." Brennan smiled. "Everybody else can wait. For as long as you need."  
Finally, Brennan began to relax just a little. Maybe, once Parker woke up, everything would be okay. Sorted.  
"Mr Booth?" A voice called from behind them. They both turned. It was a Doctor. Booth immediately straightened up and looked at Brennan.  
"Go. I'll go be with Parker."  
"Are you sure? Because Rebecca can't come yet, she's-"  
"Just go."  
She watched him hurry after the Doctor, and told herself that it was nothing. Everything was going to be okay. They were on the edge of a new start. Parker was going to fine. As was Booth.  
No more secrets.  
Carefully, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the ring that she had been carrying around with her, and took it from the box.  
He was right, she didn't like it. Or at least, she shouldn't have liked it. But it was true, what he had said.  
She was his.

* * *

Booth arrived back at the room an hour later, walking slowly, his face ashen. Brennan would have immediately jumped to the worst case scenario, had Parker not been right beside her at the time.  
She hurried over to him as he sank into the seat opposite. "Booth? Are you okay?"  
"I need a minute." He told her. His voice was low, and almost...dangerous. Brennan shivered, although she could not for the life of her explain why. This was Booth, for God's sake.  
"Booth-" She began softly. He didn't look at her. "Booth-"  
"I need a moment with my son." He repeated, louder this time. Brennan pulled her hand back from where she had rested it on his shoulder. Booth relented and whispered. "Please, Bones."  
"Okay." She said quietly. "I'll go and...get coffee." She was reminded of this morning's coffee, so sweet, and wondered what had changed from then to now. What could have changed Booth so radically in an hour? She wanted to ask him, to demand answers, but something held her back. Something told her to leave.  
She shut the door quietly behind her, and moved, dazed, away from the room.  
What had just happened?  
"Miss Brennan?"  
Brennan jumped. Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed a man approaching her. He was tall, about her age, with a kind face; a kind face currently curved into a sombre frown. She recognized him as the man who called to Booth before. His accent was not French, as she would have expected.  
"Doctor..."  
"Williamson. One of Parker's doctors."  
"Yes, of course, Dr Williamson. Is something wrong?"  
There was something wrong. She could tell.  
"Could we-?" The Doctor indicated to a corner across the corridor. Reluctantly, Brennan followed him, the nervous feeling spreading through her body. Every part of her was screaming that something was wrong, and everything about this Doctor and how he was behaving just confirmed each of her suspicions. He was frowning the exact same way that Booth did when they had to break bad news to the family member of somebody who was dead, his hands clasped in front of him.  
"What is it, what's wrong?" Brennan blurted out quickly. Doctor Williamson's frown deepened.  
"I understand the pressure that must be on you at this difficult time, Miss Brennan, and how awkward it must be-"  
"I'm sorry?"  
The Doctor blinked. "In situations like this, it's often very difficult for the girlfriend of the father- on the one hand, you have instincts to protect your partner, but on the other, Parker isn't your child, so the parental instincts that Parker's mother and father share naturally won't extend to you. I know that you must feel like an outsider, looking in. But in your mind-"  
Inside, Brennan sighed. This was veering closer and closer to psychology. If she wouldn't stand the sham "science" from Booth, then she sure as hell wasn't going to take it from this man. She could tell that he meant well, but he was making her feel small, and useless. Besides, he had news on Parker, she was sure of it. Was it really necessary for him to drag it out like this?  
"Dr Williamson!" She interrupted. "Your point?"  
The man had the nerve to look at her impatiently. "As I was saying, Miss Brennan, I understand that you will want to be here for your boyfriend. I was hoping that maybe you could help him to see sense with this situation."  
Okay. Brennan was officially confused. "What are you talking about?"  
Now the Doctor looked puzzled. It made two of them.  
"Mr Booth...didn't tell you about the infection?" He gathered his answer from the shocked look on her face and hurried to correct his mistake. "Of course...I really shouldn't have said anything, I'm sorry-"  
"If there's something going on, I want to know." Brennan insisted. Booth was keeping things from her? No. No way. This was a mistake; it had to be. The ring on her finger suddenly felt like a huge rock, weighing her down more and more with every second that passed. "Now."  
The Doctor looked worried, but he really wasn't in the position to refuse. "Parker has an infection. He's having difficulties fighting it."  
"Isn't there anything you can do?" Brennan asked. The main thought in her head flickered from worry for Parker to sympathy for Booth, which quickly changed to anger, and back again. He knew. And he hadn't told her.  
"There is something that we can give to Parker, to help him fight the infection. He fights the infection then...he could wake up."  
"Could?"  
"Nothing is for certain. We won't know until we do it."  
Brennan swallowed. "When?"  
"As soon as possible. All we need is for the parents to agree. And as it stands, I informed Mr Booth of this before and he simply...doesn't."

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me about Parker?"  
Booth whirled around and stared at her. Brennan felt a small pinch of satisfaction through her confused annoyance; for once, she had surprised him.  
"What are you talking about?"  
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Why didn't you tell me?" There was silence. Despite the fact that she had promised herself that she was going to be mature and not overreact, she found anger flaring up inside of her as he ignored her, turning back to his son. "Don't even think about lying to me."  
"I'm not going to lie!" Booth raised his own voice, as his own temper flared up. Brennan watched as he got to his feet, fists clenched, teeth gritted together, nostrils flaring. It all seemed so comical, that they were here, now, doing this.  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
"What does it matter that I didn't tell you?" Booth hissed. Brennan was taken aback by the venom in his voice. If a little voice in the back of her head hadn't been constantly reminding her that he was upset over Parker, then she would have been alarmed. "You know now, don't you?"  
"I think I deserved to hear something like that from my fiance, not from some Doctor looking down his nose at me-"  
"Well, now you know what it's like!"  
Brennan let out a disbelieving laugh. "Booth, what is going on?"  
"You know what's going on. Doctor Williamson just filled you in, right? So much for confidentiality."  
"Right. Because I'm not anything to do with Parker. I'm just the woman sleeping with his father."  
"Y'know what, we are not doing this here." Booth got to his feet and pulled her out of the room into the corridor which was, for once, empty. "I was stupid to think that we could push everything to once side so that I could be here for my son."  
"I thought everything was sorted out, not pushed to one side! Booth, look...I know we have a lot left to talk about..."  
"I thought you understood!" Booth growled. "I thought that you understood what I'm going through here. But you don't." He looked her up and down almost sadly. " You can't."  
"Because I don't have a child? Because Parker is nothing to do with me?"  
"Stop twisting my words! I didn't say that."  
"You didn't have to. Clearly it's what you're thinking. And that's what I feel like. The spare part in the big game of families. " Brennan shook her head. "So much for no more secrets. You didn't even think that I deserved to know about his condition."  
Something inside Booth snapped. "What? You think I want everyone to know that there's a huge chance my son, my little boy, isn't going to wake up from this coma? That he could die?"  
"Booth-" Brennan began weakly.  
"All I can do is wait here. That is it. Do you know what that is like? Do you have any idea?"  
"You're pushing me away because you can't stand the thought of maybe being happy whilst your son is in a hospital bed."  
"Psychology? From you?"  
"It isn't psychology. "Brennan told him. Part of her, however, knew that it was. It was unfamiliar terrain, and it made her mouth dry as she stumbled over her words. "It's fact. I know. You proposed when you thought Parker was getting better and now...after what you were told, you don't think you deserve this. So you're trying to cause trouble between you and me."  
"Why?" Booth spluttered. It didn't sound like he was annoyed; mostly, it sounded like he was actually begging her for an answer. "Why would I do that?"  
"Because that you can control. " She gestured helplessly back to the room. "You are unable to control what could happen to Parker."  
"What will happen." Booth said dully.  
"Nothing is for certain, Booth. But he has to have the medicine. He deserves a chance. It wouldn't be rational to leave him here, in limbo, never knowing."  
"So I should just let them try, maybe kill him?" He shook his head fiercely. "No. No way."  
"Booth-"  
"Would you do it? If Parker was your son? Would you?" He demanded. Brennan sighed impatiently.  
"Stop trying to change the subject!" She lifted her hand and rubbed her forehead. She could already feel a headache coming on.  
"Your ring." His voice lost its desperate tone, becoming surprised. She barely noticed.  
"Booth! Stop trying to-"  
He moved forward and seized her hand, taking her wrist in his and holding her hand in front of her face. She immediately reacted to his touch, to his skin against hers. Her anger vanished as quickly as it had been raised. Minutes earlier, they had been hissing angrily at one another. Now, she could barely remember why."  
Booth watched her, surprised. "You're wearing your ring."  
"What does that mean?" Brennan protested, still frustrated. She had had enough for one day of people dragging things out instead of getting straight to the point.  
"So you're okay? With people knowing, I mean? About us?"  
Brennan paused. Slowly, she curved her fingers around the hand that was clasped around her wrist. She smiled.  
"I'm okay with that."  
Booth pulled her closer against him, looking amused. The worried frown almost vanished from his face. "Okay with that?" He brushed his lips over hers lightly, sending shivers down her spine." Just okay?"  
Brennan let out an embarrassed laugh. "Come on, Booth, what do you want from me?"  
"Everything." He told her, his smile a ghost on his lips, suddenly serious. Brennan squeezed his hand.  
"You aren't just...a girlfriend. Parker loves you. Seriously. You're like, his Bone Lady." He gave her a half smile. "Mine, too."  
"Taking cheesy to whole new levels." Brennan remarked dryly. Booth faked a hurt expression.  
"I prefer the word "romantic"."  
"I suppose there is that, also." Brennan looked him straight in the eyes. "Thank you."  
"Thank you."  
"For what?"  
"Everything."He paused. "You're right. He needs it. He deserves a chance, I can't take that away from him. But...I haven't told Rebecca."  
Brennan widened her eyes. "Booth!"  
"I told the Doctor that I would, but...I couldn't." He gripped her hand. "Tell her with me?"  
Brennan bit her lip. How would Rebecca react if she knew that Brennan had known about her son even before she did?  
"Please?"  
"Of course."

* * *

_Rebecca agrees. Of course. The decision seems so easy for her to make. It makes me feel bad, that I even thought about refusing. It makes me feel selfish, and guilty._  
_Bones holds my hand as the Doctor tells us that they'll be doing it soon. Today. She squeezes my fingers, and I squeeze back. I remember that this is the same Doctor who made her feel inferior before. Bastard. Should I be trusting the life of my son in his hands?_  
_But I have no choice, it seems. This is it. We wait outside the hospital room, Rebecca and her parents pacing, whilst I sit, leaning my elbows onto my knees. We wait. And wait. This is the worst part; the uncertainty of not knowing, not knowing anything, juggling between two extremes. Either he comes out and tells us that it's worked, or he comes out and tells us that it hasn't. That Parker will be like this forever, maybe. Frozen. In Limbo, like Bones said. She helps the people in Limbo, gives them an identity, but she can't help Parker that way. He has an identity. My special little boy._  
_But she helps me, holding my thigh, with her ring sparkling on her finger. She doesn't leave. We sit there for what seems like hours, and she doesn't leave once. It helps._  
_And then the door is opening, and Rebecca and her mom and her dad rush forward, but Bones still stays with me. I can't hear what he is saying, can't bear to listen because what if - Brennan's grip on my thigh tightens. The fog before my eyes clears. I can see Rebecca, her hand over her mouth, but I can't see, I can't tell. Is this good, bad? Bones pulls me to my feet, and holds me up as I move forward, unsteady. Before I know what is happening, Parker's grandfather pats me on the back. Condolences or congratulations? Frozen, in limbo, or alive, and moving on? I have to know, I want to know more than anything, but I can't speak. It feels like I'm choking. It feels like somebody has reached into my mouth and sliced off my tongue. It would explain the pain building in my chest. He's dead. I'm sure he's dead._  
_Rebecca says something to the Doctor, urgently. He paused, but nods. Suddenly, she's going into the room, followed by her parents. Brennan is steering me in too, and I want to protest, I don't want to see him if he's dead-_  
_But he isn't. Parker, my little guy, is still alive. He's still in the exact same position, but his eyes are opened, and a small smile is creeping onto his lips as his mom sobs over him, as his grandparents watch, overjoyed. I stumble forwards, and there he is! Colour and sound and my voice switch back on. His tired eyes find me and his smile becomes even wider. I hug him, tightly, as if I'll never let go. Finally, finally, he's here with us again. We haven't lost him._  
_The doctor watches us with a smile before asking us to give him some space. We can see him again in the morning; he's a little tired, but he's stable. He's going to be okay. That's all I've wanted to hear, knowing that it really is true, for so long. I know he's okay. That's enough. More waiting, but it's different now, because he's okay! It worked! I can't believe it. This seems like a dream, but it isn't , I know it's real._  
_Rebecca's allowed to stay for a little longer before she goes back upstairs, and I say goodbye. I hug Rebecca, then Rebecca's parents. They go before me. This is all happening so fast, but I know that I'll remember it for the rest of my life. I say goodbye to Parker; I promise I'll be back tomorrow and the day after, and every day after that. I tell him that I'm always going to be here for him._  
_"Okay, buddy?"_  
_He nods. The doctor carefully ushers us out. I should be annoyed but I'm not. He's okay._  
_We emerge into the corridor and Brennan scoops me up into a hug. I grip her tightly. "He's okay. Thank God, he's okay-"_  
_I pull away and look her straight in the eye, before I press my lips against hers. I take her face in my hands and kiss her, hard, passionately , and she kisses me back. I don't care that there are people walking past. I love this woman. I'm going to take this woman home, back to the hotel room she booked so long ago that has barely been used, and I'm going to spend the rest of the night making love to her. I want her so badly..._  
_Tomorrow, I'll come back and see my son. With her. Temperance Brennan. My fiance, my friend, my life._

_

* * *

_

**_"Come on, Booth, what do you want from me?"_**  
**_"Everything."_**


	28. What?

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**Tada! Okay, very short chapter, and I know that some people may have a problem with how I rushed through all of this, but please don't just ignore this and complain about it anyway. The next chapter will have the two of them working through their problems and will be a lot longer, so please just be patient. **

**There WILL be spelling mistakes and errors because spell-check is broken and for some reason, FF keeps knocking off a paragraph or so of every update. Hopefully this won't happen again. Apologies for mistakes.**

**Thank you for all the reviews - I've tried to reply to all of the reviews for the last chapter, which I'll carry on doing. Hugz for the reviewer who gets me to 400 reviews. :D**

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**Remember- the sooner you review, the sooner you get more :) I've got spare time this week so I can update a lot. Sounds good, doesn't it? Hit the button!**

**Enjoy!**

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When Booth woke the next morning, he stared up at the ceiling of the hotel room, and wondered why he was so happy. Immediately, the events of the previous day rushed back to him. Parker, awake from his coma in the hospital not ten minutes away. Brennan. His fiance.

He slowly turned his head to face her. She was facing against him, but he could still see her, could still admire her. It was times like this that he watched and marvelled at how lucky he was, to be here. He hadn't had the chance to properly stop and admire her like this, given the recent events ; the longer time passed between times like this, the more his stomach flipped when he got the chance to.  
The bedsheet was pulled up to cover her, protecting her modesty, but a large expanse of the creamy skin of her back was available to his touch. He gently caressed it with the tips of his fingers. Even fast asleep, she subconsciously arched into him as he traced her backbone down to the base of her back, bringing a smile to his lips. The sunlight was streaming through from a crack in the curtains, falling upon her peaceful face, and illuminating her perfect beauty ; her porcelain skin, her thick eyelashes, her lips, which were the basis for many of his dreams, and always captured his attention as soon as he saw her. Shifting towards her, he looped his hands round, pressing them against the covers that covered her stomach, and burying his face in her long, soft hair. Booth inhaled deeply. She smelt just like she always did. If he closed his eyes, then he could have been back at home, in either her apartment or his, and none of the terrible events that had taken over their lives recently could have happened. But they weren't at home - the events had happened - but still, they were back on track now.  
"Booth." Booth lifted his head slightly as Brennan stirred beside him.  
"Good morning."  
"Morning." Brennan slowly rolled over to face him, resting her hand on his arm. Booth smiled at her.  
"Okay?"  
"Yeah." Brennan stretched. She focussed on his face. "What time is it?"  
Booth checked his watch. "7. I thought we could head over to the hospital at about 11?"  
"Sure." Brennan yawned. "I need a bath."  
A suggestive smile crept onto Booth's face. "How about you make that a shower?"  
"Really?" Brennan played along. "And why would I do that?"

* * *

Why indeed. It turned out to be, as Booth had suggested, a shower rather than a bath - a rather short shower at that - as they emerged from the bed only an hour before they were supposed to leave. Hurriedly, they dressed, and called a cab to the hospital. It was only a ten minute ride, but Booth didn't speak a word the entire time they were going there. When they arrived at the hospital and stepped out onto the tarmac of the car park in front of the hospital, Brennan hurriedly payed the driver, before turning back to Booth. She knew exactly what the problem was, and felt a surge of sympathy for Booth, as they moved slowly towards the entrance.  
He stopped abruptly as they were about to pass in.  
"What is it?" Brennan asked, concerned even though she knew what was bothering him. Booth opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. He turned to her helplessly. "I can't."  
Brennan pulled him out of the way of the bustling visitors into a quieter corner, taking his hand in hers.  
"It's okay to be scared, Booth." She told him gently. He swallowed.  
"No, it isn't. I'm being ridiculous. The whole time he was in that damn coma all I could think of was visiting him when - if - he woke up. Now he's awake in there, and waiting, and I'm too scared to go in there, dammit." He pulled his hand free from hers and rubbed it over his face, frustrated. "I mean - what if something's happened? What if something went wrong in the night?"  
"They would have called. " Brennan reminded him gently.  
"What if they couldn't get hold of us? What if they tried and they got no answer, and they didn't want to just leave a message? What if -?"  
"You need to stop this, Booth. Now." Brennan told him sternly. She lowered her voice into a reassuring whisper, and took his hand back in hers. This time, he gripped it tightly. "He's okay. Nothing has happened. It's okay to be scared, but you don't need to be." She glanced towards the hospital entrance and sighed. "All you need to do is get in there and see for yourself, okay? I can give you some time alone, if that's what you need-"  
"No." Booth interrupted suddenly. "No, no, I need you. In there with me." His expression was desperate and Brennan's heart ached in pity for him. He had been through so much lately with Parker. It was natural that he was scared, she really should have expected it, to be fair - but it still made her want to scoop him up into a rib-cracking hug and never let him go. "Please."  
"Of course I will." Brennan told him softly.

* * *

A couple of hours later, they had emerged from Parker's hospital room, and headed for the empty cafe to buy coffee from the vending machines, sitting at one of the tables to drink it. Parker, thank God, was okay. Brennan had never seen Rebecca so happy, or Booth so relieved. Although she felt ever so slightly awkward, seeing Parker alive and well more than made up for it.  
"Thank you." Booth said quietly. Brennan looked up from her coffee, and paused stirring.  
"What for?" She asked.  
"For not thinking I was being stupid this morning, for coming in with me...I don't know. Just...thank you. For everything." He offered her a half smile, before his expression became serious. "I wouldn't have made it through the last couple of months without you, Temperance." He reached across the table and took her smaller hand in his, squeezing it tightly.  
Brennan felt a lump in her throat as she always did when he used her first name. She managed a nod.  
"I was happy to." She told him simply, resting her other hand over their joined hands. Her wedding ring sparkled at the perfect time, and Booth smiled softly.  
"Now we just need to tell Parker and Rebecca." He grinned at her.  
"And Angela." Brennan realized with a groan. "How am I going to explain this to her?"  
Booth laughed, amused at her predicament. "She's going to be so pissed that you didn't tell her right after I proposed." He took a sip of his coffee then snorted. "Why don't we fly to Vegas and have a quickie wedding? In and out in ten minutes flat? Now that would really give her something to be annoyed at."  
Brennan rolled her eyes. "No, thank you." She paused to think. "Although the idea sounds incredibly tacky, there is the fact that nobody would have to be there with us -"  
"Nuh- uh. That was a joke, you don't get to take the easy way out." Booth teased her. He leaned in closer. "I was thinking the whole 500+ guests, ex's, family, annoying-friends deal, whadd'ya say, huh?"  
"That sounds like my idea of hell." Brennan told him straight. "I don't see what's wrong with a private ceremony without a whole roomful of people to bear witness. It doesn't make any difference if they're there, does it?"  
"Is that how you pictured how your wedding would be?"  
"I never pictured how my wedding would be because I never pictured myself getting married." Brennan informed him, taking a drink. Booth smirked.  
"Ah, but you didn't know that some hot, amazingly-skilled-in-all-departments FBI agent was going to swoop in and be your Romeo, did you?"  
"What hot, amazingly-skilled FBI agent?" Brennan said seriously, a sparkle in her eyes as she tried to sound confused. "All I have is you."  
Booth laughed. "Did you just actually say that?"  
Brennan nodded. "Yes. And besides, Romeo and Juliet died in the novel. Is that the ending you're picturing for us?"  
Booth shook his head. "I was thinking more along the lines of the two of us, sat out on the porch talking about the old days when we were bad-ass crime fighters with grandchildren running around our rockers."  
Brennan looked taken aback. "Grandchildren?" She repeated.  
"Y'know. Children. Of your children. That kind of thing."  
"Children of our children?" Brennan clarified, shocked. Booth sighed.  
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."  
"What did you mean?"  
"I...I want that. For you and me." He stared her straight in the eyes. "I want us to have kids together, Bones."

* * *

**DUN DUN DUN!**

**Talk about a cliffhanger. **

**Bet that really makes you want to review for more, huh?**

**But not just yet!**

**I thought that I could take this time to thank all of the lovely people who have reviewed individually.**

**I was going to put a lot of time and effort into this, because I really appreciate the people who are actually taking the time to review, instead of just reading it.**

**Yeah. It IS annoying. Very annoying.**

**But not so annoying that I'm just going to stop writing the story.**

**Yet.**

**Maybe.**

**But this story can't go on forever, so enjoy it while you can.**

**Okay?**

**And by the way- all suggestions are gratefully accepted!**

**Except when you accidentally suggest my next plot- line.**

**This keeps happening.**

**Anyway, back to thanking...**

**OR...you could just have the rest of the chapter?**

**Okay. Go ahead.**

**

* * *

**

"I...have never wanted children, Booth." Brennan told him, her eyes wide. " I've never been able to picture myself having that kind of responsibility."  
"Yeah, but you've never been able to picture yourself getting married, either, and now- " He held her hand up, so that her ring sparkled right before her eyes. Brennan slowly pulled her hand away, looking uncomfortable.  
"Children is...big, Booth. It's not something you can take back if you change you mind."  
"I'm never going to change my mind about you." Booth told her. "And I know it's big, but - I mean, look at it this way. I didn't love Becca, and it was the totally wrong time, but I - I wouldn't take Parker back for the world. With us - it would be planned, and - I couldn't love you anymore than I already do, and -"  
Brennan pushed her hands through her hair, agitated. "What, you mean...soon?"  
Booth paused. " What - are you saying - you don't want to?"  
"I'm saying that you've just sprung this on me and I don't find it very fair." Brennan said loudly. Booth hesitated, then moved his chair around the table closer to her.  
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up now." He managed a smile. "I'm not asking you to come to find a closet and have wild, unprotected sex with me right now." He considered. "Well -"  
This earned him a laugh concealed by a exasperated huff from Brennan.  
"Look at me, Bones." Slowly, she looked up into his eyes. "I'm not going to lie. I meant what I said. I shouldn't have said it, but I meant it. I just...We have a lot to talk about when we get back home anyway. Why don't we just save all this until we get back there?" He paused. "And then...I'm not going to force you. It doesn't mean anything at all if you don't want it too."  
"I don't know what I want." Brennan told him simply. He nodded.  
"And that's okay. What sort of decision would it be if you knew your answer five minutes after I suggested it?"  
"So - you aren't angry?"  
"For somebody so damn clever, you can be really dumb." Booth smiled. "Of course I'm not. Let's just...talk about this when we get home, okay?"  
"First, we need to figure out when we're going home."  
"Nuh-uh. First we need to find a closet."  
Brennan stared at him, shocked. "Booth! This is a hospital!"  
"Uh-huh." He grinned mischievously. "Lots of equipment. Big closets."  
"Please tell me this is a joke?"  
"4 hours until the next visiting time." He teased her, his face dangerously closer to hers. "Ten minute drive to the hotel. Traffic -"  
"You're supposed to be an officer of the law -"  
"D'you wanna see my gun?" He mocked her teasingly. Brennan scoffed disbelievingly. Booth's fingers crept onto her thigh, tracing the material that covered her skin, making her shiver.  
"This...is a bad idea." Brennan whispered, looking around at the empty cafe as Booth began to kiss her neck.  
"Booth-"  
"Nobody else is here-" Booth began. Brennan grabbed his hand and dragged him off to find the first, nearest closet possible, and to do her best to do as he had suggested, and put what he had said out of her mind, until they got home.

Suddenly, the thought of returning home seemed a lot more daunting than it had before.


End file.
